I remember being told,
My wishes to climb fences...
Didn't make sense.
Or my escapades to escape to places,
To others unknown...
Did not return back,
Anything to them to impress to be shown.
I remember being told,
That which I had learned did not mean a thing.
Since what I had learned could not be seen.
Or prove to anyone that I had dreams.
If...
I had them at all.
And if I did they weren't bold enough to behold.
I remember being treated by acts that demeaned.
And in my face some would laugh,
As if the doing of it would end my tasks.
But what was done by them did not affect what I knew!
I had planted seeds until they grew.
And...
The blooming of them I see.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
had planted seeds until they grew. And... The blooming of them I see. Yes, This is what, a writer has to do. When we read someone's works, something from those thousands of lines, must touch our hearts. Nice to read!