My Poems

The COLOR of the HOPE

Torn and tattered on

Even shattered

Bone-colored sack  dress on her shoulders

Torn and taters stitched with black thread,

Is it  poverty?

Or is it the torn fashion of the recent days?

What is fashion  , what is it  , where  did it live?

For her it does not matter , even a tiny one!

Her hair is dancing in the air, scattered

Right now as  out of hand of the most famous hairdresser

Shaped  with brand  foam!

Jet-black , charcoal eyes

Smiling snow white   in the tiny fresh of her heart. Okumaya devam et “The COLOR of the HOPE”