Soon she won't
Come here
Write a thing or two
Stand behind her window
Wait for an answer
Nothing would never move
Nothing else than growing pain
Maybe she understood nothing
Maybe they never smiled back
Maybe they never looked for it
Or maybe they did
And what they did was not nothing
Yet she saw it and felt it
But then nothing grew
Nothing but tears
Nothing
Nothing
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem