When we were walking down the old dusty lane,
I could hear my heart beating beside me,
Wishing is not enough, but still I wished I was somewhere else
.. With someone else
It’s not that I don’t like you; it’s that I can’t stand you
I wish you didn’t do that, but you did
I hope you don’t do it again, but I know you will
I am different, so what, I’m not yours.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem