They only gave her seventh place
When, at last, her father died,
And she tried to write a poem
About the pain she could not hide.
He took his time, and made them wait
Till it seemed he never would,
And though she tried to close her heart
It seemed she never could.
She tried to ease her well-trained guilt
For a man she did not love -
He had long ago pushed her away
And an inner door had closed;
So when he finally gave it up
And left them all in peace,
She tried to find a proper form
For painful memories.
They only gave her seventh place
When, at last, her father died
But they should have given her the first
And pushed the fools aside.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem