Hearing your voice to feel your warmth feel the warmth of your fingers I heard you like a pure poem or like a story I put you in the garden like a flower like a flower. Not even a thousand years when it is not late for a second or with you even if it is on the shelf or with you if it is a single trip These are all trophies but not sad about the bitterness of the truth The trophy But you are not not a disaster for you The most constant torment of the truth These are all trophies but the bitterness of the truth is These are all trophies but the sadness of the truth These are the trophies but the sadness of the bitterness of the truth
