Am I to sit here,
Upon this chair of yours?
Behind mountains
Of framed pictures
From your distant youth.
This is not mine,
None of it has my name.
Your kindness is bulging,
Behind your cracked smile.
But please try to remember,
Your home could never
Be my own.
Really like this one. The speed you do your poems At is amazing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
well done, forceful, and defiant!