I am mystified.
Stupefied, and
d*** those starry eyes of yours
always groping at my heart
you don't deserve to mean a thing
to me
yet you do?
Tell me: can I, WILL I ever
dispose of you?
I think not.
No matter how hard I try,
you always creep your way back into
my thoughts.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem