8 years old
My little squirrel died
I know I must have cried
As years went by, I forgot that pain
I had no sympathy for loss, “what’s lost is gained”
I looked at death like it was a blessing
To me life here was to oppressing
14 years old
Attempted death multiple times
Prepared to hear beautiful Chimes
Chimes of peace, and beauty
But here on earth, there was an unfilled duty
I did not go away
My days here stayed a faded gray
21 years old
In a mess
This relationship was so much stress
Little Nikka, My little dog
In the mist of hostile fog
She fell asleep in my arms
This should have been the last alarm
Torture to my heart
That my Nika ni had to depart
Never did I image the pain to come
For Prozac helped to keep me numb
February 22nd,2009
This day I dread
Abandoned was the life that I once lead
My little brother,18 years old
Not once did I think that this would unfold
I could not fight this, it could not be debated
A feeling of burning while being suffocated
I wonder if this pain will ever go away
All I can do is wait another day
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Good recognition… knowing what we’ve lost is just as simple as saying we knew each and every-worth of such. So as to say, we will keep the things we knew is worth keeping and let go of the things which are not… this act of recognizing can teach us to learn to recognize everything not just those that we lost, the pain of it and the dates and times, but the good memories of it and of having it as well. Good!