Living in some places in which faking to live life,
Is essential to the people...
Has got to be witnessed.
So detrimental is deception,
Anyone suspected of living their life honestly...
Is treated like a leper and shunned.
'You need not tell me where those places are.
In fact,
The last place I visited reminds me of your depiction.
I spent ten years there one weekend.
And the people went to funerals,
Just to place their food orders at the repast.'
Yep!
Sounds familiar.
Imagine being sentenced there to live as a kid.
To then be surrounded by folks with low expectations.
'No!
I've seen those kids.
I can empathize with them.
But to imagine life to live looking for ways to exit,
As quick as I can from it without options?
No!
I don't want to make any apologies,
For any imaginations I might have to be denied.
No!
I can't even lie about having that kind of imagination.'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A nice poem on children as how they are growing without Umbrella - I can't even lie about having that kind of imagination.' beautiful