She was more than just a swift hand
I felt her warmth as she held me
In pieces I was, yet I gave my all
To be the best game for her
Using my blood to shine
Even if I'd get home empty and used
All to see if there was a smile
Waiting to tuck me into bed
Worn out and weary, still use me;
For you I'd cut myself open
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem