After your dead
people say good things about you,
when you were alive they made you blue.
What about when you are alive?
why do we have to wait to
when there's no more "your life"?
Now there is some good souls,
they are nice and say nice things
and let you know.
There is the ones who are mad,
say mean things to make you feel sad.
If they only knew who you really are,
they would regret what they said thus far.
Written By Christina Sunrise on January 12,2012
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem