Tragic times of sorrow's rehearsal built like a
wall
within a mind of memory.
Stalling for minutes that will never be repeated
this side of life.
Thinking of delicate moments in the end of family
and friends, as they are gently being taken right
before us.
Grief fills our eyes with their passing, our hearts
break into pieces of once valuable china decorations,
that can never be fixed or repaired while we are
alive ourselves.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem