Who will decide,
If i turn heads,
And make people weep,
In admiration.
Who will decide,
If i live life,
In the gutter,
With a rotting guitar.
Who will decide,
Whether i go unotised,
Slipping silently,
Throiugh the stream of life.
Who will decide,
If i walk my own path,
Making my own decisions,
For right and for wrong.
I will decide,
Which life i will live,
And at the end my own state,
I will leave nothing to fate.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem