Once On A Piece Of Paper

Once on a piece of yellow paper,

I wrote a small poem about life,

but I did not show it to my mother and to my father,

because they never got inspired,

so I showed it to my friends but they laughed,

but when I showed it to my brother, he admired,

then I showed it to her, she felt it and smiled.

 

Once on a piece of yellow paper,

I wrote a small poem about my failures,

but I did not show it to my mother and to my father,

because I did not want them to read,

and I did not show it to my friends,

as I knew they don’t need,

I did not show it to my brother too,

Because he would’ve felt bad,

then I showed it to her,

she read it and was sad.

 

On a piece of a yellow paper,

I wrote a poem about her,

about her big beautiful eyes, about her long and curly black

hair, about her dark attractive beauty and about her love,

but I did not show it to my mother and to my father,

because I did not want them to scold me,

I did not show it to my friends too,

As I thought they were good for nothing,

I did not show it to my brother,

because I did not want him to be shocked,

and I did not show it to her too,

because I did not want her to be lost. 

 

On a small piece of white paper,

I wrote a small poem about death,

but I did not show it to my mother and to my father,

because I did not want them to cry,

I did not show it to my friends too,

cos I did not want to tell them a lie,

I did not show it to my brother,

because I did not want him to know I’m destroyed,

and I did not show it to her,

but I don’t know why.

 

On a torn

piece of paper,

I wrote a poem about myself and fate,

but I could not show it to me,

because it was too late.

 

Finally on a piece of yellow paper,

I wanted to write a poem,

but it could never be completed,

and I could not show it to anyone,

because my illness was never treated.