D-on't let your heart ache,
A-s the sun begins to set;
N-ovember eighteenth day
I-s not excused from fret.
C-ry not a river of tears, when the sky gets dark;
A-fternoon becomes night, like a shadow in the park.
O-ne heart is bleeding
B-ecause of the wound;
L-et it eventually mend
I-nside where it's positioned.
G-ray clouds up in the sky
A-re turning into a storm;
C-old chilling raindrop
I-sn't making you warm.
O-bliterate the fears, as the dawn starts to break;
N-ever let your eyes cry, don't let your heart ache.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Another inspiring acrostic. Well penned, Bernard................