Few have seen those bruises on my knees.
Or heard me pleading in the wilderness weeping,
With kept faithful prayers...
To heal my concealed wounds.
As I laid in a weakened state,
Awaiting for the Sun to pierce the darkness.
And for anyone to believe,
A pettiness they wish to leave on my path...
Is going to be worthy of my giving it and them attention,
Have no idea of the obstacles I have had to face...
To overcome to continue on my journey.
And I am not about to stop to explain anything I do.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem