Two of a kind, think with one mind
but never really shared,
the fact that their feelings had grown
that they truely deeply cared
Through their lives, they past eachother by
without a second glance
poor girl put her heart on the line
and discarded her last chance
Tears always run down her face
her heart could never believe
that a smile not plastered on
she will now achieve
Many people tell her
who her friends are
this woman is growing tired
of the over cutting scar
She's grown old now
a withered face to see
this woman was never happy
this woman can't be me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem