Honesty is something she learned by pactrice,
Love, Hope she noticed.
Anger, Pain she knew by birth,
And Happiness she tried to hold
As the wind grew, and the rain was hard.
Rainbows no longer shown
The sun was dying but still it shined for the people
She had no emotion to discribe what she felt
No direction of where to go,
And no ears to listen to the words she was taught
She`s gone now,
Weeds on her feet, Petels on head
No one knows who she was
A witch, A forgotten soul, A Wideo, A Bird?
But she lies their cold as can be
Rotting as the day goes by
The funeral was short as the day
And everyone shiverd,
No weaps, No crys, Just on lookers
And Two roses for the dead.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.