The balloon goes up and the playmate is no more in the Playhouse.
They are already grown-ups.
The old fence is broken and a new parapet is there.
It's like a ballet,
When the ballerina at the balustrade
The grueling swain swarms to the stairs.
Both stumble at the dim stage and then the stagnation.
Dedication to all the lovers who hide their tears...........?
A cleverly written poem, but then tis you Nimal a fine poet indeed Love duncan X
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The sweet pain of nostalgia. What would we poets be without it? Your sadness has worked wonders for you in this little poem. Very fine effort indeed, my friend! Sandra