The Manuscript
It's like a braille and I touched the buttons.
Then I saw the kind Gypsy Santa
He was combing his gray beard.
' It's very delicate like a woman and handle carefully son.
Each button gets currency notes in different countries
When you press gently.'
My beloved grumbles in the morning
When I said Merry Christmas to her.
'I couldn't sleep the whole night
Because you were typing a manuscript.'
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Added by Poetry Lover
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