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poem for dad

das Emporheben, als der Wind brannte durch
wir waren nicht viele
gegen die grüne Flamme des Weißdorn-Baums
welches hält
Dame, Ihr Herz hat an Staub gewendet
gelebt durch den River-side
gibt es jedes dort
wie Adler auf hoher Höhe
wenn ich sehr sicher war
ein süß ernster Gedanke
unsere angenehmen Momente fliegen
vor er war viele und viel einem Jahr
und mein Name ist truthful

 



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