Regret can be your pet.
Our brains have a beautiful taste.
One more problem makes all the difference in the world.
Maybe i am only homesick if i don't want to be a runaway.
Maybe a 1,000 you's can dream at the shadows in the wishing well.
Then again these eyes are not safe when playing dead.
They smell like reverse pyschology and a big lack of education.
They, like reality, are hidden in the last choice you will ever choose.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem