Watching a friend run away deep into the forest,
not wanting to face reality because his loss is
too great.
Grief makes you do strange things that ordinarily
you wouldn't think of doing.
Possibilities amount to nothing, as life lives
without you, not caring what you think or how you
feel about anything.
Just existing, nothing more, every day always the
same as the one before.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem