Mother, a poem
My son, where are you that I can’t find you. I’ve searched for you in gullies. On pathways, in rivers and in oceans, And in all the different places Where I’m told that “there are bodies.”
It's your world
Peace > July
My son, where are you that I can’t find you. I’ve searched for you in gullies. On pathways, in rivers and in oceans, And in all the different places Where I’m told that “there are bodies.”