I love a boy, and he's a magician
His touch, his laugh, all part of my prescription
He's just pure magic
Beautiful and tragic
Oh, beautiful and tragic
My lovely, pure magic
He's able to make my wounds disappear
But able to multiply his, it's painfully weird
He's magically blind, he just cannot see
How his sadness and pain hurts deeply to me
But he doesn't care, and I'm always scared
That he'll cut too deep, and be trapped in Death's snare
Asking and begging, painful and sad
And my scars start to hurt, just twice as bad
I always beg 'Please! '
He laughs
'I'm fine! '
He's fine.
He's fine.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem