Traipsing down avenues, belying mistrust and doubt,
catering to ideas of progressive jealousy.
Mind-set away from negative feelings, taking joyful
moments, secreting them inside a corner of my mind
to look at later when alone by myself.
Jotting down images, artistically displaying where
only I can reflect upon them.
Later, showing the world how they look, as I write
everything down as poems in books, glorifying their
existence in the present.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem