I have no food.
My stomach rumbles from hunger.
My body reacts in weakness,
Sending the message of pain to my brain.
My heart beats in rhythms,
Making me aware of being alive
I have no shelter.
My body constantly gets
Drenched in the sun
And in the rain,
With sweat and cold
As my logo.
But still, the awareness of life
Rises from within.
I have nothing but rags
As a covering for my nudity,
Not any of the necessities.
No food,
No home,
With rags as clothes.
But still, I'm aware I'm alive.
In everything, give thanks.
Poverty or riches,
Happiness or woes.
Asides hell, what could be worse than death?
In life, hope is born.
Be thankful.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem