(Stonewalls…) are some hearts
— Leaving you spitting feathers
In a road, death crash of apathy
Sadly, it's often your own family.
But who's responsible might you ask!
Just, look at your own reflection.
Your smiles aren't exactly golden daisies
You hold your own love by tweezers.
Who's to blame, the entomologist?
Keeping their own love in glass-cages
— Look no further than the truth!
Every heart hasn't a starlit ceiling, roof.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem