I hate the fact that...
I met you..
I wanted you..
I got you..
I loved you..
I missed you..
You left me..
Everyday I rest in my bed,
Grabbing on; on my pilow
wishing it was you.
Knowing that you're not mine
anymore, hurts the most.
I cared more about you,
than I cared about myself.
I wish I could save all these
tears so you can drown in them.
I hate the fact that I loved you
with all of my heart.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem