I put the gun to my head
i take three shots, i should be dead
why can i still breath this day
did it have to be this way
its not the time, its not the place
i barley want to see your face
i dont want too see you tonight
youve lowered my only flying kite
just wait a few more weeks
right now, im just a bit blue
it'll be like back in the day
when i never used to talk to you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem