When we're in love we instantly seem happy. The rest of the world seems to be a blur to us. Love is something we crave, something that we can make and something that can be abused. As love slowly kills you without you knowing it, love will cover up the pain with happiness and joy. But when love is gone, the cut grows and is now felt. Love makes a cut that can never be healed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The cut can be healed, but always leave the scars.