With paper in hand,
I froze and traveled through time,
reminiscing on every bit of happiness of her
I could find in my mind
I tried to remain strong,
convincing my mind I was a man
while fighting,
trying to hold back the urge to cry
My imagination portrays
a clear picture of my Angel,
whose presence I feel,
whose life has been cut short
I envision her with translucent wings,
a halo on her head,
bright and shiny,
watching me from above
She will never grow old anymore,
nor witness the fruits of her labor,
or understand her purpose on this earth
She leaves questions un-answered
but one thing I know
is that she suffers no more
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Quite sad but touching. Nice one.