It is not a game
But yet you insist to play
It should not be your war
But yet you act like it is one
It is a foolish attempt
But yet you always keep up hope
It is a dream
But yet you believe it is real
It is not your time
But yet you grow too fast
It is not a thing
But yet you give it a name
It must be hard for you
But yet you never think about it
It is gruesome
But yet you still have a touch of innocence
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem