Dreams are like a farmer who throws seeds into the wind on a dark gloomy day.
Results don't happen, and weeks turn into months, but then one day...he looks down at the green little buds, and that is when he realizes that hope still comes around.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is a really good poem. I like how simple it is and that it sounds like it is just your thoughts, not so much structure. It's nice. I give it a 10...Autumn