Shamefulness has a way of creeping into my private areas.
It´s a physical sensation, a sick sensation.
I squeeze my legs together, though it is no use.
Fluid in movement, it makes its way up there anyway.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
the univeral sadness experienced by all that I'm simply not good enough and no matter what we do our unworthness never cease to trouble the soul yet somehow a glance from ther shifts such feelings to prive that I can beloved and more that I deserve to be loved and I shall be loved the organic birthright of the human a fine poem