Red attire, red lipstick
First cosplay, first convention,
the beginning.
Wandering aimlessly,
confused, half afraid
Semi excited.
Across the room,
a familiar face
among a sea of strangers.
Well maybe
a few familiar faces.
Hellos and goodbyes
and pictures in-between
One person, just one
Well at the time
it was two
But that’s a long story.
For the one,
black suitcase in hand
maybe it was different.
I still believe it was fate.
Fate, for that day,
two strangers became friends,
and friendship grew to love
but it ended abruptly
and just as fast
the love turned to hatred
and the friends became strangers
once more.
Then again isn’t this how
all the stories go?
Because after all,
villains never get their
happy ending.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nice and very true.Liked it.