She closes her eyes
when the sun is too bright
and cries 'this may be the afterlife'
It doesn't suit her
It's only a matter of time
till she loses her mind.
But don't you think about it
don't you worry.
He's gonna come back
I swear.
Still this isn't what she needs to hear.
Her sadness is contagious
through every part of her.
There is no cure.
chacun est seul.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem