Just putting a pen in my hand and setting paper in front
of me is enough to set thoughts flowing out constantly,
loving to write so very much, because I am freed, deep
inside of me.
All thoughts locked up ever so long, find their way out
onto paper so everyone may read them.
Deep inside, each time releasing pent up emotions, which
I have always thoughtfully denied by stuffing them inside.
Letting off steam gently, slowly, over long periods of
time, becoming freer.
A past which as held me captive for so long, is coming
out onto paper in the form of poetry, pulling me along,
helping Me to grown.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem