You ask me what is my poem
My poem is from heart
And my heart is not English
My heart is talking
In a language of sense
In my mind they converted
And always there is a gap
Between heart and mind
You ask me why they short
I cook from what in
My refrigerator
And there is no enough words
So time is not in hands
But I will make my soup
I hope you like it
As I make it from my heart
Beautiful poem my heart is not English My heart is talking.....lovely a poet must keep well done Sallam
Definately a heart warming soup. We all need honest words from the heart way before many other comforts..
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
the soup from your heart is very satisfying. lovely write