Clouds gray and white
Just don't fly right
Eyes of ours
Eagerly awaits
The downpour
You promise
Taking away
All our sorrow
Filling with sweet aroma
Inviting for psychodrama
Pulling away our archetype
Enjoying my perch
The way I'm in real
The way I always wanted to be
The true self.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Lovely poem and picture, Varsha!