Heartbeats, succumbing
The petal of a poppy
So rich, silk and numbing
I am not, who dare say sloppy
Open your mouth
He has a present for you
It is divine and from the south
Keeps me alive, keeps you true
Shells upon the beach
Telling stories long before
Little secrets, out of reach
Truth hurts, becomes a chore
And into voids of bliss
Shall we endure our Fathers tales
I wouldn't care, but do not miss
The view upon him, when she fails.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem