You've planted many flowers for us
that are now starting to grow.
Some of them I know by name
but others, I just don't know.
One of these flowers
seem to tug at our hearts,
it sends our eyes burning
with tears of fiery darts.
Our bleeding hearts
are crying from all the pain
everytime we see these flowers,
again and again.
They are growing so beautiful
and we know you love them too.
Some of them are pink and some are white
but leaves us feeling so blue.
The flowers, in particular,
that I'm talking about, (of course)
are none other than the 'Bleeding Hearts'.
An ironic name, without a doubt!
Since you passed away, mom,
we're all left with a 'Bleeding Heart'.
Maybe someday, we'll enjoy them again
but until then, we need the healing to start.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem