They said she was beautiful.
For me, she was an angel.
She was divine and pure.
If God was an artist,
She were His masterpiece.
If beauty was in details,
She was perfect.
When smile kissed her beautiful lips
Even roses were shy of their existence.
When she spoke,
Cuckoo would hide in the bushes.
If Leonardo were alive,
She would have been his Mona Lisa.
“Then why did you give up on her?”
I never gave up on her.
I gave up on us.
Because she was too good to be mine.