She paints a lovely picture
But here's the shocking twist
The paintbrush is a razor
And the canvas is her wrist
Don't you see
What you've done to me?
You caused me to die.
To take my own life.
I lived in pain
And now so will you
For what you've done
Don't you see
What you did to me?
Just look on the arm
Of my dead body
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The first four lines stand out. I wish you wrote on happier things of life.