I've seen the summer roses fade,
I've noticed the last girl in an Easter Parade,
I've watched the late autumn leaves crumble in the breeze,
I've seen strong men brought to their knees.
I can't help but believe every heart eventually dies
long before the owner of that heart is lowered into the grave;
I know, for certain, I've entered a drawn-out season
where I've learned to exist without any meaningful, emotional reason.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Sad wistful poem. You did a nice job of expressing your message.