After
On the path that still
Heavy is feel of guilt
Car had hit a sunk, squirrel
It was killed, was smashed
Made the air stinking
It left me questioning:
"And what if…? "
What if I was victim?
Or a child, he or she?
What would be different?
We are born to die, leave.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem