Your head bent, 'sorry' you say
And all I see is a lanscape of self pity
The weakness of a naughty boy
Gazing up at me from the eyes of a man
'I keep ruining my life' you say
And I feel sorry for you
And I am mutely sorry for myself
I want everything to be perfect
I offer false forgiveness
And so we go on pretending.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem