Screaming from the thorn bushes
Watching from the shade
Never asking to be heard
Only to be saved
You never reached a hand to me
I watched you from my spot
Torn flesh and bruises
For this person I am not
I handed you a shovel
As you handed me a spade
Digging, digging deeper
In the silence of the glade
The sun was quickly setting
Many hours had passed
You closed your eyes forever
As I closed my own at last.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem