2. cümlәsi yox, cümlәlәri olacaq deyәsәn mәndә -*

i remember i cried when my father died
never wishing to hide the tears
and at sixty five years old
my mother, god rest her soul
couldn't understand, why the only man
she had ever loved had been taken
leaving her to start with a heart
so badly broken

(baxma: alone again)