So.
This is it huh.
The end of the rainbow
and not a pot in sight.
I don't want to be bitter
but really
There's a chip on my shoulder
and it's a chip I've always had
But you want to know something?
I'll tell you the truth:
You stopped writing
And I stopped listening
And really
That's why we stopped needing
Each other.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem