She was young…
With a long dark curly hair,
Skin color that was so fair,
Eyes almost almond in shape,
She was innocent and sweet.
A girl with so much plan,
She fell in love to a man,
She was then a teener -
And yet she didn’t care.
She played with the sunlight,
She danced in the moonlight,
Wished upon the stars at night,
She’s a woman young at heart.
Ten thousand nine hundred
fifty days to be complete,
A new life to her was a gift,
Everything in her has changed.
She lay to bed one time,
Pretending she was fine,
Fragile body weakening,
But she’s not complaining.
Then one cold lonely winter,
The angels came to take her,
Fifteen thousand six hundred
days to be exact, when she left.
She was young…
A simple petite woman,
Who learned to love a man,
She was a mother of one,
Now she’s gone…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem