Never will you find me,
Caught up in your traffic.
Or waiting for permission,
To stop and go as I please.
Too often with you,
I felt cautioned.
I wasn't sure whether to speed up,
Or slow down.
But now I've tossed that all to the wind.
Knowing my life lived didn't need your definition.
Never will you find me,
Caught up in your traffic.
Or waiting for permission,
To stop and go as I please.
I tried that repeatedly!
And you still want to direct,
Your concept of perfection.
But you have yet,
To self examine or self reflect.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem