Poetry

Oh, Lord, who is above us,

Guide me what to do.

Because I find no words to tell her this fact

I have rung a new doorbell

Leaving my rib in a living hell

While I smiled at our first date, I smelled like tantalizing aromas my rib chose.

As she looked into my eyes, those were already reflectors of my rib.

As she stood facing me, she did not know that sent me here to save me from harm used to be my rib.

While she lay beside me, who took care of myself and accosted to me was my rib.

While she was kissing me, I suffocate in private mourning, my rib.

When I proposed her, she did not recognize that I had left in tears my rib.

Oh God you who are above us,

I don't know what to do,

because I have lost my rib