What's on your mind?
And what is it filled with
Is it blank or crowded?
Filled with garbage trash
Or a clean slate waiting
To be written upon.
As we are patterned
After the mould of our heart
Because we rise and fall
At the dictate of what
Is written upon the tablet
Of our heart.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem