day I was born

O young girl, neither a poet nor a painter, but I am both, from the day I was born, the pain and sorrow of my mother only burdens me. They never let me take a step for myself only once to release my secret. I was taught to shed my tears everywhere and hide my laughter with my claws, when I grew older it was added to my sadness, another triumphant sun came out of my pain, the day I was born ....

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems

Share This Poem