then it got cold
branches holding you up
a lost dog searching the streets
in the moonlight
a half-finished letter
with a broken envelope
torn edges
speaking your mind
dirty shoes standing in the back
rolled up jeans
lips that never held a smile
and never gave a compliment
unless it was true
then he got cold.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Write comment. Good imagination, Mister. Read my poem, Love and Iust. Thanks