From The Bottom Of My Heart :
I Present You My Rhyme
I wait for the end of the mourning
because I was tired of hearing the cries
of thought
and tears that make the tender
in my veins
hit the nasty whispers into my ear
rumors ...
hurtful words
penetrate the small heart ... and slice it
ridicule
made low, and not valued
I want to hear
calls from the sky
mollify
which looked at me, one eye
expects praise
although only a few
I hope
my life is not disturbed insult
I want to be friends
and avoiding oppression
yes
I do not like them, that perfect
I was weak and the different
tap, this is not something contemptible
really, really hurt my heart
bemoan the shortcomings
who becomes the laughingstock
because I was tired of hearing the cries
of thought
and tears that make the tender
in my veins
hit the nasty whispers into my ear
rumors ...
hurtful words
penetrate the small heart ... and slice it
ridicule
made low, and not valued
I want to hear
calls from the sky
mollify
which looked at me, one eye
expects praise
although only a few
I hope
my life is not disturbed insult
I want to be friends
and avoiding oppression
yes
I do not like them, that perfect
I was weak and the different
tap, this is not something contemptible
really, really hurt my heart
bemoan the shortcomings
who becomes the laughingstock
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