Every school has them, the dead kids,
The ones that never made it through:
Brave Paul with his cystic fibrosis,
Little Janet at the railway crossing,
The Thompson boy hit by the truck after the football match.
Not for them the exam grades or Speech Night dress,
Not for them the promise of success,
Only a treasured photograph from infant class,
Children singing at the requiem mass,
Lingering questions as to what it's all about
And grieving parents with their hearts torn out.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem