Last Supper Poem by Valentin Busuioc
Last Supper
Rating: ★5.0
in this restaurant
I've never been
your hands are drier than mine
in your eyes the streets get lost forever
in mine they still have life
the brighter your face is
mother
the sadder is mine
like when you told me not to lose hope
because you'll be able to fly someday
calm
like a bird
caught in the shot of the gun
Saturday, November 10, 2018
Topic(s) of this poem: mother
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7/19/2025 1:32:08 PM # 1.0.0
