It’s been three-thousand hours
And twice as many tears;
Since my man’s been gone away
Feels like a thousand years.
Every day well-meaning people say.
“Dry those pretty eyes, girl-
Life goes on.”
But the Boy he was my breath-
Without breath life feels like death;
And I die a hundred times each day
Like I have each day since he’s been gone.
It’s been three-thousand hours
And just as many pains;
I hear it’s supposed to fade away
But my heartbreak still remains.
So I go about just doing
All the tasks I need to do.
Going through the motions,
But it doesn’t mean a thing.
Cause, Lord, he was my soul,
Now I’m left out in the cold
‘Cause without him near
My heart don’t have a song
It wants to sing.
It’s been three-thousand hours
And the sky, it looks like rain,
I pray each day I’ll find a way
To eradicate the pain.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem