As a young child,
I couldn't forget
How my parents cried
When my little sister died.
It was too difficult...
It's like a needle in the heart,
A bullet in the brain,
And a sharp knife that's full of pain.
After what happened,
Do you think they're still the same?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
thanks. good. I like this poem. I invite you to read my poems and comment.