Listening at doorways of yesterday, hearing stories from
youth being told by parents when they were older.
Good to hear them in my mind again, only wish they were
really here, talking to me.
Missing them affectionately and sorrowfully, especially
their love and caring of me through life.
(11: 33.m. - 11/01/13)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem