I always thought flowers were so beautiful, so gorgeous. The vibrant colors the beautiful shapes of the pedals, the fragrance, the uniqueness in everyone. No two flowers alike.
I always wanted to give you a bouquet of your favorite flowers, imagining us going on a nice date, and me presenting you with a dozen of those flowers that you desired and cherished so much.
I recently have had a change of heart though. Now with flowers sprouting out of my eyes, out of my skin, coughing them up with the red fluid, messing up the colors, messing up the scent. With them leaving me in ever-lasting pain. I had to finally realize you don't feel the same way, you are the maker of my disease in order to get better I must let you go before it kills me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem