There was once this little girl I used to know
With such ideas, such dreams made with care
Her eyes held magic as precious as first snow
And her laughter, a glimpse of a world so fair
But darkness did come, unwanted hands did grip
Screams silenced by the night, tears hidden from the crowd
More than twice she thought of letting her blood drip
As the pain raged on, as the silence grew loud
There was once this little girl I used to know
Her ideas now fading, her hope withering
Her eyes turning dull and growing cold as snow
Her once bright lights growing dark, now flickering
I reach for her; hold on for her, wish for her fate
Yet where our fingers should meet, I touch cold glass
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem