Sitting picking wild flowers.
Hoping he'll love me for all I am.
I sit and pick the petals off one-by-one.
Why can't he see everything I've done.
I would give him the world if I could
But he likes her, without a doubt.
he doesn't know what I'm about.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The picking up of wild flowers has given motivational hope of loving each other. There is dream that he will come with love one day. What you are, perhaps he does not know about but still there is light and there is hope. He will know you and he will come as love in reality. An amazing poem is brilliantly penned.