I have things to lament.
You have things to lament.
I refuse to lament.
But, you stay glued to sentiments,
With contented reasons meant.
I have things to lament.
You have things to lament.
I refuse to lament.
But, you stay glued to sentiments,
With contented reasons meant.
Growing old,
You lament.
As if you're sold,
To lament.
Inviting mold,
To convince to start a pointless argument.
Growing old,
You lament.
As if you're sold,
To lament.
Inviting mold,
To convince to start a pointless argument.
I have things to lament.
You have things to lament.
I refuse to lament.
But, you stay glued to sentiments,
With contented reasons meant.
Growing old,
You lament.
As if you're sold,
To lament.
Inviting mold,
To convince to start a pointless argument.
I refuse to lament.
But, you stay glued to sentiments,
With contented reasons meant.
I have things to lament.
You have things to lament.
Why shoiuld we be here lamenting,
When lamenting makes no sense.
I have things to lament.
You have things to lament.
Why shoiuld we be here lamenting,
When lamenting makes no sense.
I have things to lament.
You have things to lament.
Why shoiuld we be here lamenting,
When lamenting makes no sense.
I refuse to lament.
I refuse to lament.
I refuse the consenting when to me it makes no sense.
I refuse to lament.
I refuse to lament.
I refuse the consenting when to me it makes no sense.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem