Losses arrive without a gentle tone,
They enter lives unasked, severe, and bare;
They take what felt essential, deeply known,
And leave us facing absence in its stare.
Yet losses teach what comfort never could—
The strength to stand when nothing seems secure;
They strip away the false and misunderstood,
And shape a truth more fragile, yet more pure.
From loss we learn the cost of holding tight,
And how to love without the need to own;
We learn that light can still persist in night,
And meaning grow where certainty is gone.
Thus losses leave no lesson easily—
They teach us how to live more humanly.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem