Scattered, lost, almost unrecognizable;
She plays again, tries to match the pieces,
But it doesn’t matter how much
Her little hands roll up or twist around,
They’re still scattered and lost somewhere…
And what she knew once is all but gone…
How many changes, so little time
And tears point out their spark,
And she’ll fight them back, again and again
It doesn’t really matter, so much pain…
Scattered, lost, and almost gone forever…
What can she do?
…To appease such a cold hearted destiny?
What can she really do?
…To ease such an ill tempered fate?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.