Poetry is like an art
Perfect for the ears to hear,
Warmth from words that make you grin
Sometimes ear to ear
When I see her face
Much like an art
I get that same warm feeling,
And when I hear that soft, kind voice
I catch my self a grinning
You see most people do not see
How poetry is real
And when I say real I don't mean just existing
I say it has a form
How can plain words create a form?
Many have to ask,
But it is not the words I see
No, there is much more
Poetry is beautiful
Even when its sad
Staying up late at night
Writing, though I'm bad
Poetry and she, seem to have a lot in common
Both wonderful in my eyes
And in many others
What makes I worthy
To even speak of them
For if she knew what I think
Surely she would sigh
Although I know she is my love
The feeling fades away
But even though in my time
I know she will see one day
The comparison there is
Not much like any other
Is poetry and this girl I see
Go one and one together
They both are very beautiful
That's exactly what I see
For even when put together roughly
Show for quite a scene
When I speak of them I will begin to stutter
The cause of that is simple
Love is overwhelming
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem