I paid myself
A visit
After eons
Of absence.
Gestures would show
I knew not myself.
Is he the one?
No. He looks shabby
Compared to the
Silhouette reprinted
On recyclables.
I miss him:
My long lost persona
Playful and labeled
With youth's scent
Stored within
Happy faces.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem