when she died at sixteen
that early morning the rain fell
you look at the sky
on the limitless horizon
at the infinite possibilities
that she could have become
the clouds are darker
than you expected
sometimes you do not like the rain
the darkness and the scream inside your heart
you like to deny them
their sad existence but they had always been there
even before you learned to defy
inside your thoughts crying
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem