I love how I'm second,
how I always end up last.
I love how you beckoned,
and how I was forgotten so fast.
I don't want to be the rebound;
I don't want to be the runner-up.
I'm falling on ground;
I'm giving us up.
I'm moving on,
catching up fast.
Forgetting our bond,
and repressing the past.
We just didn't work;
it just wouldn't hold.
Maybe we were a quirk;
one of us too bold.
You say it's my fault,
when it's all around us.
You tell me to hault,
and to give in to trust.
I know it can't be fixed,
and that it's too late.
My emotions were mixed;
my feelings irate.
I'm sorry; it's true,
and I'm trying to be strong...
I'm going to miss you but...
But we just just don't belong.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem