As the white trees increases in number in the forest of my beard,

And the forest on my head turns into a desert ,

My thought now daily reminds me of the words of my father,

In the nights where his worries makes his heads too heavy for the neck,

And his hands is called to pillar his collapsing head.

As father drowns in his thoughts with hiss and sighs disturbing the peaceful night.

He would whisper to my young ears laying on his thighs;

"My son,To be a man is not easy"

poetictwenty:
As the white trees increases in number in the forest of my beard,

And the forest on my head turns into a desert ,

My thought now daily reminds me of the words of my father,

In the nights where his worries makes his heads too heavy for the neck,

And his hands is called to pillar his collapsing head.

As father drowns in his thoughts with hiss and sighs disturbing the peaceful night.

He would whisper to my young ears laying on his thighs;

"My son,To be a man is not easy"

Awwn. This is nice. Gosh, it's been long