A Broken Morn, My Broken Heart.... Poem by Sylvia Frances Chan
A Broken Morn, My Broken Heart....
springtime morn now every day
but I forgot what I wanna say
is it the eat with you or?
you call me off, you don't, 'cause your son's fever
I noticed your son's fever is ever since
you apologized once again
meet me on Friday then
sorry Friday my son shall come
we cannot eat with four
that shall ask for more
I just wanna eat with our two
incredible me, the dutch then say 'hoe? '
please, call me again when your son's recovered
now the morn is no springtime anymore
broken together with my heart....
© Sylvia Frances Chan
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Very impressive write, Sylvia. You may like to read my ars poetica named, Poetic Sense-1. Thank you.
Thank you for coming, Jazib, sure I will. You're most welcome.
Thank you for your kind comment, Bernard! God's Blessings in Abundance! Thank you for the 10+++
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/8/2024 4:34:27 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Poignant monologue. Much expressive.
Thank you so much, dear Kesav, your support constantly means so much to me. Your visit most appreciated.