The poem
If I die, leave the balcony open.
The little boy is eating oranges. (From my balcony I can see him.)
The reaper is harvesting the wheat. (From my balcony I can hear him.)
If I die, leave the balcony open!
8,657 poems196 poets · 750 BC to todaySince 2003

The poem
If I die, leave the balcony open.
The little boy is eating oranges. (From my balcony I can see him.)
The reaper is harvesting the wheat. (From my balcony I can hear him.)
If I die, leave the balcony open!
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