Born with a fresh slate
we have no choice what is put on our plate.
But now we have the freedom to choose,
if we want to end the abuse.
Abuse we do on ourselves each day-
in our heads we make our graves.
better to come from a 'Heart Of Gold'
Heal the wounds that have been sewn.
Put a dab of love on them with kind
words of a loving friend
so that we can be free in the end.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem