Seeing you with her,
Kills me bit-by-bit.
Knowing that you're happy with her,
Kills me even more.
I know I shouldn't be saying this,
Because you will soon be reading it,
But I just wanted you to know,
Just how I feel right now.
That's why I wrote this book,
So that one day you'll find it,
And figure out what I've been thinking.
I hope that one day soon you realise,
That I composed this book for you.
I wouldn't show you before,
Because it was not ready.
I was not ready.
But now I have wrote why,
All you have to do is ask,
And you will find out,
Just how I felt.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem