Do not come if only to say good morning

Like holding a red rose, even though my blood is dripping from its thorns but its red petals have a reminder of you. Your face may be remembered on a canvas, but your warm love does not come any more.

I've forgotten you a day in my life, but after that I'm back to remember you in a thousand days. When I start clever standing up from the past, in fact you come drop me, even young buds hars willing to wither, accompany your departure. On the wet roads of tears, from every vehicle passing by, wet with you some fine previous stories...