God it hurts,
The feelings burns,
The etches in my skin,
Where do I begin.
It's so unpleasant,
The constant incessant,
I tried to dissuade,
Only to be persuade.
The spikes that follows,
The punctures bellows,
It just won't heal,
Was that the deal?
I've been a fool,
A craft of my own tool,
Just to think,
Now I rethink.
Your love hurts,
Or mine that hurts,
Was yours there to begin?
The answers there within.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem