The days go by, how many are left?
Not very many, her life is a mess.
The one that took it all away.
Is the one that I wanted to stay.
I long for her touch, and the heart that was torn.
She keeps taking and taking, until there's no more.
But now for her, she has found a new friend.
They call it the needle, which will be with her to the end.
I try to help, and she pushes me away.
She is in denial, every single day.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem