As i wish upon a shooting star i find my self with my head lowerd like i was sad or mad at the world an as i made my wish to be happy an explore my head grow lower and lower till i was crying on the floor no one could cheer me or make me crack a smile till the phone ring and an it was the man i waited for when i knew it was him i ansowered with a (what took so long) he said im sorry an we made up and went down hill wonce again
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
i like how it explains the cycles of some realtionships :) ive been there before...so do you writyhe your poems on inspiration coming from your own life? i do it but only sometimes beacsue if something happens i migh regret wrtiting a poem and that would be the worst