If someone you know dies,
Just think of it as a pothole in the road,
A pitstop in a race.
'Cause when someone dies their journey goes on.
The journey never stops.
Life is half of this journey,
Death is the other.
And anyway did they like their life or did they hate it?
Are they happier where they are now?
Usually we hope they are?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem