They sat on the bench together.
An ancient looking woman, and a boyish looking man
They watched the children playing,
making castles out of sand.
Not a word was spoken.
Not a feeling felt.
Silently
each began to question
the lives they had been dealt.
The young man sat in numbness
on his face a hopeless stare.
He still hadn't found his answers
and he no longer cared.
As they sat on the bench together
tears formed in the old woman's eyes.
And when the tears flowed freely
he softly asked her why.
She turned to him and whispered
'You know you've lost the battle,
when nothing makes you cry.'
As he watched the woman leaving
he began to search the feelings
that he'd so deftly tried to hide.
And with a flicker of hope forming again inside him,
the young man sat alone on the bench,
and cried.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem