I got to get out of my head,
but there are some things I feel need to be said.
Like the wind and the rain, they may not always be desired,
but to continue to thrive, they are definitely required.
Let me pour out my heart, but don’t listen to my words.
What I am really saying has been cut into thirds.
I hurt, I heal, I hope.
But it seems as though you don’t.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem