Chapter 69 - the poet

The paper was the heart

As the ink was the pains

It draw me as it become fresh wound from the words of pain

I write my emotions on heart as the evident of my history

I write until it bleeds

It becomes a scars

Scars that i will never forget as i never forgive myself for writing

Writing the word of emotions of sorrow and misery

It will be there until the air runs out from my lungs