Sometimes you hurt,
sometimes you plead.
Once in a while you're curt,
every now and then you bleed.
Again, you're hit by the pain,
again, by a good friend.
As you stand in the rain,
idly, you wonder, ' Can my heart mend? '
Aren't they supposed to be here?
Where could they be?
Aren't they supossed to hold me near?
Why don't they see?
Once again you wonder, 'Why do they hurt me so? '
And as I turn, I want to be free.
But then I realize, ' How would I survive if they go? '
'Why it so hard for them to see? '
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem