The trees whisper a secret
As I sit here on the grass
The secret is like a beautiful glass vase
But still it shall not last
The secret is a melody
Given only to those with ears
So I sit here and I listen to there many fears
Now I sit here and I wonder
Does anyone care?
For if there’s a beginning
Surly there’s an end.
good few typo's typo's: secrete = secret unown = unknown beautiful keep up the work you have real talent, it will be interesting to see what you come up with next.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
that is a beautiful poem, short and true. well done