She's on the edge
feet dangling below
she knows if she jumps
there's a long way to go
But she's weighing her options
and setting things straight
cause she's tiered of being
controlled by her own fate
She thinks she old enough
and that she can choose
She knows what's best
and she has nothing to loose
she's tiered of living
and life's just a game
one you can't win
with blood, tears and pain
And she turns around
to a noise on the roof
there stands her family
aware not aloof
Her mother's in tears
and her dad is upset
but she promised herself
she wouldn't regret
So she went to the edge
turned around to face them
her tears raining down
like tiny glass gems
She starts to fall
and waves good bye
and now like her
they're starting to cry
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
so calmly written. it looks like distorted vidions, confusion and disclarity that all the pain has brought to her. it seems like its really high up in thick clouds; not quite grey and with lots of arm-like whisps. a sense of what your language goes on to create completely by itself. really great. ta. -M