It is the hurt that breaks me
The pain that pulls me to my knees
The tears that change me to what is not seen
The hardships that out runs me to the end of myself
From this entirety a hundredfold of knowledge lie fallow
Yet pickled thinking is reaped in scaffolds of wisdom
And the sincerity within truly and undeservedly blossom
As earthly toil morass what perception is freedom alike
Endearments of clarity cheapen waves as ripples strikes
In thoughts imbalanced to human nature
Though outcome preys against our favor
Yet experiences deceit we savor
meaning and value crowd in clarity of thought
as farmed thinking fades and bleeds off discontentment
Apprizing the durable side of its fulfillment
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem