I've been sitten here for the past hour thinking about what to write. You'd think with everything I have on my mind, I could write something down.
And I can't. Thats a first.
I want to write about so much but its all confused in my head. One thing after another: future thoughts, planning, regrets, what-ifs, blames; all one after another. they just keep comein.
For some reason, i keep thinking of roads. you know, as in, are you on the right path?
I know i can make something out of it. I know i can figure out what it means but what-if i can't. What-if this road is a dead-end? do i worry about it now or later.
How do i know to turn right or left, just because if i go right its the right way. What if i become curious about whats on left? what-if the person up-stairs is sleeping and letting us fight for our selves. we sure haven't had our prayers answered.
What-if, what-if, what-if........................if you ask me theres too many what-ifs and not enough facts. but thats me. your the ones who decides right or left, so you choose.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem