Day by day,
She fights to say,
She fights for life,
She fights to stay.
She fights for her children,
She fights for her husband,
She fights for her family,
They know she loves them.
Day by day,
Lying in the hospital bed.
Srtaring at the ceiling,
Waiting for death.
She won't feel it coming,
For that she can thank the morphine.
But still she fights,
Against the invisible nothingness.
For her family,
For her friends.
She never knew,
When she picked up the knife,
Trying to end her life,
It would be so ineffective,
And hurt all those affected.
She only knew,
She was done,
And she had waited,
For relief to come.
But it had not,
And she created this mess,
Not knowing,
All the horrible effects.
Now she lays,
And silently fights,
Against what she'd wanted,
Now she wants life.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Beautiful poem! i guess it's true, only when you get that close to death that you release just how much you love living. Very well written.