a girl in the meadows played,
as laughter trickled from her.
yet under that innocent face,
lies no little girl.
pain masked her features,
where it should not be.
oh why should this fall,
upon a girl not of three?
i look at her and see,
who i was, my history.
she caught my glance,
held it, and i saw,
glances of torn little dreams
and a tattered little soul.
a white piece of paper
now tainted, with flickers of blood
it should not go
there, it should not be
she is but so young,
she does not have to
go through it.
She must.........
- for that's how it has to be
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem