every year someone new comes into your desire
they cold be clean or dirty, but they ignite your fire
you ask and ask, but they say no
thats another mark of your own
one cut at a time.
love is dangerous, it leaves it's mark
its like a knife to tree bark
it's hard to stay away, when love is not at bay
you want them to stay but then they have to go
love alone can kill you
it leaves it mark
its a wound
against your heart
it doesn't heal
it only spreads
the last dropp will end when your dead
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem