Gone. Poem by Azeez Rylands
Gone.
When we fought,
It was more then sticks and stones.
Whenever I thought,
It was better to be kept unknown.
There was always a problem,
It seemed to be something I did.
So I changed the way I do things,
Yet the problem was still so big.
I did everything I could,
to make this mistake no more.
Only realizing when I was gone,
The mistake was me all along.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/3/2024 4:08:34 AM # 1.0.0.1119
