We took for granted the time we thought we had
We shared and we fought
We slept and we cried
Hours spent with nothing to show
Lovers who’ve never touched
The hero didn’t save the girl
The thoughts disjointed
Jumbled together
Some good some bad,
All make me cry
I laugh at my own tears
So I held the proverbial knife to my own throat
And slashed at my own wrists
With my words, blasphemous words,
I couldn’t keep them in my mouth,
I might be a liar but I didn’t lie
My beatific smile didn’t cover my shame
And the angel didn’t save the soldier.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem