This our kind of love
Is like a love tree planted by the river side
Yet we still get dehydrated from ourselves
This our type of love
Is like a computer cause each time we put our garbage in
It always shown on our outer emotion and kills us little by little
This our thing call love
Is like cancer that eat us inside and smoking encourage it
Yet we are ready to smoke it out till it lifeless
This our breed of love
Is likening to a dog, no matter what you do
It always go back to it vomits
This our class of love
Is likening to a beautiful school full of pupil
Yet not a single teacher in it
This our colour of love
Is so black to the point of darkness
Yet we know we needed light in here but we are getting used to the darkness
This set of love is so dry
So old and so empty
Yet we still drag it alone when we know our bus stop
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem