Angry words fly through the air
In the silence of our room
There is nothing in this love left to bloom
It has slowly wilted away
Petals tattered from lack of care
Once it really dies... it cannot be repaired
Bandaids are a false sense of hope when infection lies deep within
From pain will come pleasure....
and I am ready to let the healing begin
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
wow, im really impreseed, keep up the gud work! ! ! ! 1 i gud give 10 on 10! !