I shooted a bullet, and that bullet bounce to me, and came directly to my heart. I wished for that bullet to hit my head, so i could forget everything ive done. I dont know why i shooted, I dont know were i had that gun, buts too late, everything its done. I have no choice rather than put my hand over the wound, and the other hand............over my littles angels wound
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Instead of forgetting what you've done and learn from yourmistake, this way you won't make the same mistake again.