I met with her
In a shabby bar
Clouded by smoke
Of cigarettes
Of the best choice
Where the music
Played too loud
And the teens
Screamed at the top
Of their voice
I needed one beer
To just warm me up
It turned into
A bout without a stop
Her smile enchanted me
I wanted her to be
My girlfriend
I could realize
That without starting
Our romance would end
I gave her my phone number
And asked to keep in touch
But until now
I haven't had too much
It was too good to be true
I don't know what the catch is
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem