Happiness is short lived.
That moment of glee,
Then the frightening occurance.
It is true
I love you
I said I do,
but soon,
we were pulled apart
in the dark depths of pain,
the word.
Divorce.
As terrible as the lost petal of a rose,
running out of days.
I used to love you,
I knew you through writing.
This is my last writing about you,
My last writing about love,
My last writing...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Happiness returns in its time, and we write again. Endeavor to persevere... Don