Every night she cries herself to sleep,
As if it were a habit.
I suppose it is by now,
She's done it most her life.
When all the problems started,
Her life began to change.
She used to be such a happy little girl,
Now hidden in a shell.
Too afraid to come out,
Too afraid to let any in.
For she did once,
But got it thrown back in her face.
Before the problems started,
Everything was fine.
That little girl was so confused,
She didn't know why you left.
Now five years have passed.
She had no one to love,
But she still wonders what did happen,
To make you want to go.
Why did you leave her waiting?
She was so alone and scared.
When all the problems started,
That little girl was me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
soaked with emotions, without it sounding desperate. Keep on writing poems because you have a gift that should not be wasted