As the wind blows through my hair
And the raindrops pelt my face,
I listen to the preacher and
Avoid her pale white face
I knew the meds weren't helping
And her time was drawing near
And although I avoid the casket,
It's not her I most fear.
I fear that if I catch a glimpse,
My heart will burst in pain
So instead i stand here,
Eyes closed tight,
And listen to the rain.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem