I am what remains of my former self.
Ashes.
A skeleton, a shadow, a memory
Of who I once was
Standing in the void,
With no way to turn back.
And nowhere to move forward.
All I can do is fall down and weep.
My perfect little girl is dead.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
It would be wrong to comment in any way other than to send you deepest sympathy & prayers: but the fact that your writing moves these feelings shows how well you write too.