I write, I fight,
I'm tired now.
Nothing does change,
The Why, the How,
Remain the same,
Man Always,
Is inflicting pain,
The war, the death,
The lack of bond,
And yet no one,
Can see beyond,
Their own personal,
Little pond.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
But what I see beyond my own little pond is pain, war, death, lack of love and starvation... so I come back to my own little pond made of pain war death and lack of love... all in all everything will be drowned.... * *