I could not see the mess of my BPD,
a borderline personality disorder freak.
I spent all my savings on the shopping quick
and found myself in the debtor's creek.
I had too many friends to be reconciled.
their love of me swung from heaven to hell.
I was once abused with aching abandonment
and grew up under the foster ornaments.
My teachers taught me arts and pouches
and sent me to a great school to learn design.
My art works completed me inside and out
and I enjoyed my new life to teach intertwined.
To touching many children and even more elderly.
my arts long lived with new form of family.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
You are right. Art is long and life short to express the art of life. Wonderful poemm shared.