Staring at the mirror makes me want it more
Dreamed of what I could have been
But I never will be
Pray for me, light a candle
But don't visit me
Cause you never did before
Or stand over me and weep
Cause who the hell was I, to you before
So don't you bring me flowers
Cause you never did before
Leave the weeds to grow like they do inside
The stinging neetles serve as sharp metaphors
Let the children kick my stone to the floor, like you did before
Here lies
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem