His favorite color is gray
Night is his favorite part of the day
He thinks he’s alone
He wants to be alone
He stood there in the dark
Told me it’s his place
No one could touch
No one could see his face
He thinks he’ll be alright there
I want to tell him that I care
He won’t be okay
He needs someone to stay…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem