The more tears I shead in this lonesome fricked up mishchieveous world
The more and more I hurt the pin is just a wonder put to shame
The tears that fall beneath and down below my checks, cry a sob story to tell thee..
The lonesomeness is just a queary
The pain and misery are not mary
The suffering I come up from thy statement,
Daws me to follow thee
No matter where my desereted little heart of mine has no pleasure or need to be without you
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem