I suppose there's something simple,
In how hard you make things feel,
How there's always something awkward,
About what's fake and what is real,
There's definitely something hurtful,
In always looking to the past,
Yet there's always something beautiful,
In knowing nothings going to last,
This silent sense of certainty,
Shouldn't reflect how it should be,
When forever, always, everything,
Is what you have meant to me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem