Poems... Auto-translated

No one writes about the bad game, la-la-la-la
No one cares about the bad game, it doesn't matter
Cold war, tu-tu-tu-tu
Empty servers, tu-tu-tu-tu
Forgotten game, u-tu-tu-tu-tu
Start everything from the beginning, aaaaaa

On the line of fire, pa-pa-pa-pa
Some kind of duck, ppa-pa-pa-pa
And so day after day, pa-pa-pa
You didn't know anything, uuuuu

And then I thought, why not share my poem?

A dialogue between unborn children and their mothers, who chose not to give birth.
Each subsequent quatrain, starting with the second, represents another child of another "non-mother."
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-I am the voice of darkness, created by pain,
And after many thousands of years,
I carried it for you,
Take it, this is the light of unborn hearts.

-The light of my childhood, which you took away,
The light of a sigh that I never made,
Tell me, what feelings did you experience?
And what is a mother's tear?

-What was your world like, tell me?
Because I don't know – I died in the womb,
They took me out of you in pieces,
I had eyes, didn't I?

-And what is laughter and joy?
And the bitterness of truth, how can I understand?
To run, to jump, to swim in the sea,
Tell me, I'm curious to know.

-Well, why are you so silent?
Don't you have anything to say?
When you decided on the murder –
Didn't you think you wouldn't have to answer?

-Come on, say at least one word –
Why did you deprive me of life?
I carried a question with great pain –
Tell me – what are our names?