Slowly but steadily I begin,
Getting bolder with every mile,
Stopping at one light,
And then the next,
Making the turn,
Without going into the next lane,
This trip will not be made in vain,
And though I am late,
As I put it in park,
I laugh,
As my legs adjust to standing,
With a smile I walk away,
I have survived once again
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem