My sky used to be blue.
My grass used to be green.
This is how I used to dream,
Until my world turnt black and,
the sun would never shine
all you would here is a baby cry.
Dont let him go.
Dont her cry.
Dont let single tear come frome out thier eyes.
Let the keep their spirits alive,
let the spark of light guide them through the night.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem