Procrastination steals the time that lovers could use better,
Forgiveness is not easy, but if not released will fester,
Regrets live on, when love is gone, unless rejuvenated,
Time passes and will heal the hurt, ‘loves tragedy’ created,
And so it was two lives re-crossed, fate defined their future,
The hurt had passed; they now could laugh, each with the other,
What had seemed a grievous act which never forgot, could be,
Was frivolous and petty, now there love had been set free.
For friends of these two loves, the break had been traumatic,
Some had taken sides and so the healing, was sporadic,
Like a pebble causing ripples, we affect all those we care for,
However love is blind, and takes no mind if others hurt more.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Ah! This sums up the number one reason why you never speak bad of a friends ex! Wonderfully written piece!