Getting out of the window is awkward
Pass the guitar
The bottle of wine
The cool breeze makes its own way over
When we were young
we sang on rooftops
When we were young
we knew what was in our hearts
When we were young
we held hands – just to experiment
You make it out too
We look over the garden
And out to the lake
And we sing
We sing what is in our hearts
We sing the songs of our childhood
I sing my mother’s songs
You sing your’s
And we sing our history right back into the present
I don’t know what’s in your heart
But I know what’s in mine
And we sing.
To learn more about my 108 Poetry Challenge or to donate click here. All proceeds go to the Young Adult Program at Yasodhara Ashram.
Cool! I enjoyed your writing! Keep it going!
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