From the lands in the south, to the states of freedom.
For this large migration, was it really worth it?
A land prized as beautiful, advanced and free.
But is it really true indeed?
For these all are in naught, not true for me.
For the stories you told me, brought these statements to its knees.
You, my fair lady, hair of brown with slight of gold.
Has trained your heart to be fearless and bold.
Your actions and speech, could lead a battalion,
Fighthing till they live to be, with hair of grey and old.
The Girl from California, my brave little Lye,
Do not fret or cry, for I am on your side.
To be a sea apart,
We both would sync our sighs,
Time will be our teacher,
As years and years go by.
YOU ARE READING
The Girl from Maravatío
PuisiA short story-like poem dedicated to my wonderful girlfriend~ (The titles are different but all of them are dedicated to my girlfriend, Lye)
