The warm tears roll down my face
They leave no trace
I cry sometimes for no reason
It just depends on the season
There`s a season for everthing
A season to love
A season to hate
A season to lie
A season to cry
There`s no exact 3 months time
They don`t march in a staight line
Im left here crying......
......................To be continued........................................................................
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem