ripped paper
the torn parts of the paper would never meet
beautiful
the unique will never be made by any other
feeling my chest tight
since I want to stay at the same as I have
it seems that I am being rolled away to somewhere I don't know
I will pull myself together to be ready for the next
Nice To Meet You I will say that, smiling.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem