I am ashamed to write this truthfully
but it's okay
because this morning I'm one step ahead to paint my heart about you
I'm just a woman
I know that
but not if I write this letter for you
the man who with his eyes makes me happy?
morning..
afternoon ..
afternoon..
night..
there's nothing he did for me to be happy
traces of our footprints that tread on the beach
a gentle breeze looking for the shadows of the shadows of our tale
ah, really I miss our close ones without any distance
now? hah!!
I write too much on paper with this black ink
but my coffee is never absent to accompany my silence,
my friend fought the longing
I think he missed our conversation anyway
I hope,
as our conversation never becomes expensive
sometimes I have to pay my coffee with loneliness
in fact, this longing like dregs,
settles sincerely
without asking for a drink
so is not it?
I miss