Even though you did me wrong, I've written a few poems about you.
You came in my house and stole some pills, that was a bad thing to do.
You also borrowed some money but didn't repay what you owed.
Sadly, you won't celebrate this Christmas because you died half a year ago.
This will be the first Christmas since 1969 that you're not alive.
You died six months ago today, you weren't able to survive.
You had a heart murmur but half a year ago, your heart stopped beating.
When it came to death, it was something you had no chance of defeating.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem