So many tears shed in the dark of night,
Hidden away in our private thoughts
Only to be shelved with morning first light
Because of no courage to speak of the pain
This part of our lifes remains the same.
I sit by a letter adressed to my mother,
No courage to post it, no guts to muster.
I've written the things I needed to say;
Will she get my meaning or stray away?
Into her own thoughts to calm her that day...
Thoughts of comfort, truth not portrayed.
It must be nice to be the favoured child of choice,
To not know the feelings of a life not rejoiced,
To know through life, whatever wrong you've done,
In the eyes of the parents, you'll remain number one.
To not know what it's like to give of your soul,
For recognition that you will never, ever know...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem