They never understand;
Or ever comprehend
The severity of my decision.
I'm convinced I have control,
Yet those I dearly hold,
Keep hold on their derision.
I know I'll find remission
For commissions and omissions,
My heart is not stone cold.
She'll say I never loved her;
There always was the other
Stopping us from growing old.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem