The skinny dreamer strike the ball and it's landed on the Horizon.
But they are not ready to grant him the championship until he brings back the lost ball.
Oh! The voiceless stampede Golf ground cried alone
And he collected the tears in the dawn.
Dedication to all those who touch the grass for solace.
How sad for the poor caddy. But he had his dream for a little while. Kind regards, Sandra
This is so beautiful, Nimal. Your skinny dreamer and his mighty aspirations and the disappointment that seems inevitable in his sad and sorry world. Your poems always touch deeply. love Allie ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A small boy, tall dreams............and enomorous frustations.........A Good Write......