 Why
Dear people
Here is my new poem, would you please proofread it.
Why
Why a young woman at the bus stop cries?
Love,
Illness,
A lost mobile phone?
If we were in another country
I would wipe her tears with my parched lips.
Here, I do not dare.
My hair is dark
Her strawberry blond.
My eyes the plough earth
Hers the blue sky.
The sun is shining
The economy blooming
But she is still crying
And I do not dare to kiss her cheeks. |