Happiness spreads like a forest fire.
Dead twigs and leaves dusted with hatred
Burn up seconds after the little flame
Begins to dance.
Even rain drops and buckets
Can’t stop the fire
As it roars throughout a forest of broken dreams.
Brilliant red and lemon yellow flames
Consume a forest like laughter does a room.
It is easier too start than most men assume.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
i like the metaphor of fire - well written - 10