I look beyond a window of pain.
A fragment of glass, with tears that stain.
My life of sorrow brings out a fire.
To write of things, that to me inspire.
My thoughts are put into a poem.
Giving my words, a voice of their own
Printed on paper, is the pain that I leave.
Releasing myself, of all that I grieve.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem