We cannot forget the loving time,
The special ones that pass,
Our hearts remember, sometimes learn,
The pain that seems to last.
To rise up strong,
To re-love again,
Who can hold a virtue such as this?
Who shall give their heart away,
Who dare to take the risk?
Our minds recall,
Our souls perceives,
Yet the heart learns to carry on-
Maybe it isn’t the mind or soul,
But the heart that sings the song-
Of love, of hurt,
Of pain and joy,
The dashing looks,
Of a girl or boy.
The times we lead,
The days we’ve wed,
And despite all hurt, to love instead.
I have fallen in love woth your poetry. May be it is mind or frame, Heart and soul it also claim But all life is love game Sometimes you acclaim Sometimes you blame CP
this poem has a voice, which most poetry lacks, and i think this poem is like the sky is falling, and it would crawl back again if it was let, good words, well thought out lines, and a message to me, which of course is open to a drowning of roses, is like all the lights of Paris, pure gleam
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Sincere and heart felt words.