I needed a new kidney, fast.
But, because of a rare blood type,
Almost all transplants would not last.
But, I had no reason to gripe.
Dad was compatible and gave
Me one of his and well it went.
But, then the doctors could not save
It after a car accident.
The ER doctors, at Dad's plea,
Said in good conscience they could not
Use his other kidney for me.
Dad went into the parking lot.
'Save her, ' were the last words Dad said,
Then shot a bullet through his head.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem