There is no end and nothing to tend to.
All the simplicities and all the complexities no one can compare to mine.
Here i am thinking of the ending, thinking of the twisting and bending ahead.
People always told me i would never become anything in life.
All this has led me to is never ending strife.
I could never believe my eyes in the darkest times.
I never gave up and i never could despise.
All i remember is each day tears were running down my face.
People always told me to stop my cries.
All the time i wondered who i was, where i was, and how i was doing.
I could never explain my life in a non fiction story.
Neither could i ever make myself sound less annoying.
I hated the people that discriminated against me.
I loved the one's that were so beloved to me.
I never thought about that element, the element of being free.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem