he stuttered on every line
like the way he stumbled in the days of his life
he had his nursery lines
as simple as his life has always been
an evening of poetry
with a group of friends and peers
there were so many cheers
and some hands clapping
expressions of ways of loving
and then there was this hug
and the green tea bag
and my eyes open for the purpose of his line
nothing complicated but divine
just a celebration of life
less the knife
seeing himself in the mirror
as a new human being so pure
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem