Why could I not think of someone
When someone remains a memory;
Why could I not fall in love with someone
When only she accepts me as me.
So long have I been waiting
For the time when we could meet halfway;
My heart’s skipping a beat, but I’m just dreaming,
So I’ll never hope it will be.
If only writing could bury my feeling,
I wouldn’t be tired of hiding it anyway;
But it couldn’t be happening, not happening,
My thoughts of you still stay.
Only my paper knows
The dreary pang and the heavy burden I carry;
Nothing but only it, it shows
The tears that flow through me.
So I let my pen cry out
Until it runs out of tears;
I let my paper be torn out
Until this enigmatic feeling disappears.