I don't suppose I'll ever know,
the reason that you had to go;
I don't suppose you knew yourself,
Why we put love upon the shelf.
But I will not cry a river,
nor will I mourn the loss;
Tis done, with one quick shiver,
no winners, no slave, no boss.
We join the many others,
One out of two it seems,
The sisters and the brothers,
Shattered hopes and dying dreams
We had our chance and lost it,
The fire has gone out;
We lost, bit by bit,
and wondered what it was all about.
It's vanished, buried in the earth,
Now no marker can be found;
Let's strive to get rebirth,
And hold it next time round.
.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem