the pain i let out the more it comes. my sarrows wont seem to fade they come an they come and as they come they strick me, it feels like a knife about to stab u, this feeling, is it true? is the world ending? can all snowflakes fall to the ground can every single one of the melt away like the sarrows that profile me.
can i make my way onto a new path were the sarrows are left behind?
Each days a new day it feels the sameas the day b4, b4 this there was know path, now i see the path and i wounder is that the right one am i making the right distions?
Can the world bring the sarrows to an end, every sarrow has a new path in every ones point of view.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem