With only a single tear,
I sit here,
Wondering if he'll come back,
Wondering if I'll welcome him with open arms.
Yes, care he may lack,
But I love him.
My frail body at the bottom of the stairs,
I can't help but question if he cares,
Looking at old photos I can't help but shake,
I have to question the relationship
But love we make.
When I think of all the times he's asked 'Will you forgive me? ',
I think if anything will ever be,
I overthink everything I know,
Knowing nothing will ever change,
I'm the dead body and he's my crow,
But I wish I really was dead.
You may not understand,
When you see us walking hand-in-hand,
When I think of all the good times we've had,
Nothing comes to mind,
And yes, to me, every day is sad,
But I love him.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem