Sounds of excitement coming hurriedly in and out of
melodies, being drummed to, finding the equality of
life hidden in throes of rhythm.
Touching upon the sadness as it ruminates to silently
through my being throughout the years, suffering in
the quietness of my soul.
Never complaining, k just barely sustaining my appetite
for living, holding on to faith hoping it can keep me
writing until my death.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Never complaining; knowing what is ahead. Nice work.