When the light turns on
The voices go out
When she walks you here a pitter-patter
All you see is a big blur.
Her hands are like ice
Her heart like fire
Her heart hurts and it spurts out blood
On the cold hard floor.
She can see things before they happen
But she did not see this.
Her heart can’t be mended
For as she has attended
She has had no love since
For she is broken and can’t be fixed
Scotch tape and a band-aid will not work
No more.
For she is broken.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem