I'm sitting in my room
thinking of a new poem for you
i just came back from the shop
who fixed watches and does clocks
cause my watch is kinda locked
the strap is locked to my hand
like lovers entwined
the timing is screwed
but i really don't mind
it's stupid i know
cause this happened 3 years ago
and yet as i stood at the clock-maker's shop
my heart missed a stop
as he unlocked the lock
i miss my watch
the one that was on me
now it's sitting on the table
doing nothing but counting
i wished i hadn't gone to the shop
it's a weird feeling but i love my watch
love it stuck to me
love it always with me
cause in reality
no one ever does that to me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem