There’s a wind that’s blowing in my face,
As everybody else walk’s with ease,
It’s trying to knock me sideways,
It’s trying to bring me down to my knees;
But I’ll stand my ground.
I’m determined to get to where I'm going,
Every step is made with intent.
This town won’t intimidate with me,
It’s shadows won’t betray me,
I’ve seen the darkness it wasn’t that dark,
I could always see a light.
Disowned – the black sheep of the family,
No longer referred to as the son.
But not a sad and lonely figure,
If anything much stronger, more focused.
The morning light won’t dazzle,
The evening won’t replace,
But the numbing will surely provoke.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem