Must I hear a melody
everywhere I go?
I can't seem to escape it
and yet I seem to know
that my very being has
always depended on it
from when I was a child.
It was there and it did knit
a special kind of macreme
woven tightly in my brain
that never does unravel.
It fact it does remain.
I wake up with a tune.
Its persistence mystifies.
It challenges me to understand
and try to realize
that this is part of who I am.
It does not go away.
As far back as I can remember
even while at play
these melodies were in my ear,
repeating constantly.
They only seemed cease
in silent reverie.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem