You are my witness you've seen how I've grown
Growing, reaching out. I, won't be dethroned
Who's going to uproot me? Tear up my roots
I don't want any man who persecutes.
Who can persecute my mind, heart and soul?
I don't want a place in your pigeonholes.
Physically my looks, aren't they kind of, delightful
And with you, all this could be intertidal
If you'd take my pagan heart without a fault
And never change me the one you'd exalt.
Lay me over a green mossy bank
I'll be wild waters lapping your riverbank
You'll take on some of my own, amnesiacs
There'll be no one left here looking back.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem