leaning at my couch,
i was watching through my window,
the rain drops dripping through,
they were wetting the leaves of a plastic plant,
poor plants they couldn't feel the drops,
or poor rain it couldn't convey its feel,
sometimes our heart is too like a plastic plant...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
YOUR NAME IS LONNGGGG BRUV!