Cleaning up the shelves
swiping the dust away
I take time
to read the old newspaper
with a ristretto
a second one
when I find
a note that I once wrote
about my love, my heart
I was young
my lover had left me
and it was clear, he took
a piece of my heart with him
It happened to me before
Now I'm here with myself
wondering how
my heart van beat
with the love holes
So beautifully written with the pen of truth! I felt the emotion, and know it's depth. Wesll done!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Such a well penned poem, dear Zywa.............