I’m alright.

How mant times must I lie?

Heartbroken and full of regret

How many times will I forget?

Every rose comes with a thorn.

My rose, my perfect rose came with many

But now my rose had wilted,

It was plucked from my hand.

Romeo to my Juliet no more.

How many times will I forget?

“Falling feels like flying until the moment you land.”