I sit here alone,
No one was there,
Alone as a kid in a orphanage.
Alone as a teen no one to love, only hate, no friends, just no one.
Alone as an adult, no kids or husband to love, just no one.
One day I just gave up, gave up on life, no more stress, remorse, or sleepless nights.
At the age of 32, I now sleep on a hill down by a river.
Dead, happy, and loving life….now.
I never though being dead would be so great.
I sleep alone, in an unmarked grave, no one to remember me.
Just like in real life.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
still a reminder of painful days... still too beautiful for words... but not so true anymore...