There is a desperate anger in her eyes today
I wish I could explain her silly fears away
Her face is brown with bloodied purpose
so full of periwinkle hope that she dares to blush
'Blacks don't blush, ' her ex told me one day
'Fool can't see, ' was the response that I gave,
But in this foolish moment of curious sight
I beg for her to hold it before takes its flight
We must not linger in the precious past
Lest we die before the time has a chance
to make us laugh, and cry, and anything else
I say with solemn conviction these things,
She tells me,
Go to Hell.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.