Like the golden poems,
I used to read in the olden songs,
With the sound of a vallenato music,
Of those days I really didn't know,
That poems can live in someone's eyes,
But then, when I met your eyes,
I saw your eyes play me this poems,
Your eyes were the poems and your name is its book.
What Poem Are You?
Noaharry
(C) All Rights Reserved. Poem Submitted on 12/27/2023
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Poem topics: music, play, book, live, golden, sound, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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