And it started off so well
and I felt like I was
good enough for you.
Then you started getting colder
and I started getting weaker
and I get weaker all too fast.
Days were getting shorter
and my worrying nights were getting longer
and all I wanted was for the person I'd met to come back again
but the waiting was getting unbearable.
I wanted to play hard to get
but I was only getting harder to find.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem