My perpetual pain carries its own aid,
Failing to disguise my angry shame.
And though the tears continue to flow,
Your courage cures my broken heart.
We beat you up then cast you aside,
And we abused the privilege you gave to us.
When you smiled; we scorned,
When you cried; we rejoiced.
Your distress calls went unanswered,
You were left alone in the brutal wilderness,
Yet you battled on through clouds of contempt,
It’s too late to compliment your grace.
We will carry on without you,
Making the same mistakes,
Just to another delicate soul,
You’re better off away from this cruelty.
The guilt is natural now,
But it’s eclipsed by the relief,
And though I miss you,
I know you earned this freedom.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem