Like a locket the picture is hidden, who really stops to look inside?
the outside is descriptive enough, just look and walk on by.
who really opens a book with just a picture of a key,
not knowing thats the way to get inside and its really a great book to read.
what I'm saying is so much judge, before knowing whats really there,
all they see is a pile of dirt, not knowing whats been dug there.
i know its hard to look at trash and believe it may be art,
but we have to stop judgeing the looks and see whats in their heart.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem