I stare down at the muddy ground where the raindrops fall around me. I close my eyes attempting not to cry I pray and hope you cannot find me. A shame it is to think of you while I roll over in the mud. How embarrassing it was to walk in on you with my family-my brother-my blood. I never knew who I would become if this day drew near it was a day I feared but now it has come to pass and in this rainy mud pile I ponder the past years.
I swallow my pride and yell to the skies you will not be the victor to get the satisfaction of hurting me beyond repair I will never let you win. I dip my hands in the muddy rain to purify my unclean soul. The future is mine for the taking and you will reap what you sow.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem