i look in the mirror,
and i look into my eyes,
and i say, i want to be proud.
but how can you be proud,
when you unintentially,
crushed the only real thing in your life?
how can you look at yourself,
when you let yourself,
do what you did.
Doing it unintentially is even the more disgusting,
for it shows that they were the last thing,
you had in your mind.
it shows that you did not care enough,
to even put a thought their way.
they were the weight of a butterfly on your shoulder.
then how can you even look at yourself,
once you realise that you took your time.
it took you years to firgure it out.
you had the nerve to emerse yourself,
in the bliss of ignorance.
you actually thought you did nothing wrong.
you deserve nothing.
they were everything,
and you threw them away.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem