She bites the bullet
That tore his skin
The roses thorns
A deadly sin.
A blind man's work
Stole his breath
And left her here
To mourn his death.
A smoking gun
Made her tears
Stories of
Their teenage years.
The times he held her
As she cried
From when they laughed
To when he died.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem