Speak to me, the language of love
I need to hear your voices inside
The dreams, aspirations and desires
Lurking somewhere, and never die.
I never write poem, because I don’t know how to and cannot. So I wonder if this is even one. It just came to me an hour ago, while I was waiting for the train back home. I quickly jotted it down in 2 minutes to pour down my thoughts on paper and didn’t think too much about it. Until I read my friend’s poignant post. So moved was I, that I decide to share this.
Roosevelt Island, NY. February 21.