A never ending Sassoon of questions,
And answers,
And stupid things.
Pointless actions that mean nothing
But yet there is a longing,
A desire, a passion for it,
A need to have it,
A hand to hold
Eyes to look into,
Lips to kiss,
And though we tire of the stupid love,
We are drawn to it.
So with crimson cheeks,
We answer the questions.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem