In your heart and mind you hear those rhymes.
But what if it isn't the way you think it sounds, the beats of words by the drops of a mouth.
The greatest stories told are the only ones that can be heard by the ears.
One interpretation, one revelation, one soul not twenty.
An act of smoothing attributes.
A charming little bit of snake oil.
It rises up and coils.
Whose influence are you under?
Shame at the feet of a spoiled blunder.
You think your somebody special but you aren't.
None of us are.
The reality is humbling.
We have so much faith in our identities, that sometimes we forget who we really are.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem