When you're out of steps
I stoop for you, and when
You fell on yours knees
My arms synch to hold you.
If you feel tiresome of nothing
Im worried about you, and
Cried for something my
Shoulders synch to hug you.
Many times you're exhausted
With no room to air, like
Tet spell out of the blue but
I kiss to synch you in purple-red.
Yet time constantly changed,
Your knees are cleaned, dried
Tears, and skin turned pinkish,
But I wasn't the one who synch.
The favor eluded your fears,
But you taught me not to
Synch my feelings to anger rather
Unsynchronise you from dreams.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem