To hand you a baggage of rules
Is not an idea right
It pains me every time I see you
Struggling with your plight
We gave you those keys from the sea of decadence
And see you getting lost in your search
There is no door, dear child, for you to open
You turn up every time in the wrong place to perch.
Listen to your heart, whenever you sense fear
You have to emerge, no matter when
To face the sun's glare.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
nice write of concern! enjoyed reading.