The Morning sun rose over an absence of you.
Every breath shallow and stale.
Every song semmingly sad
every sight altered and askew.
surreal
like a simulation of life
like a stage set but unoccupied.
eighty three years of you on earth
my existense
my sisters
our children
their children
and now, an absense of you.
I miss you mom.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem