Sometimes I don't want to see or hear...
What comes to the surface.
I don't want to pick it up,
For fear of where its been!
I check it out,
Before I open my mouth.
I check it out.
Making sure in my mind,
I am doubtless about it.
Then it becomes free to go...
From my lips or fingertips!
Sometimes I don't believe,
Thoughts that come to me.
I'm the kind that seeks evidence...
To digest,
Before I'm convinced.
And I do not mince words,
If something I observe isn't seen.
I may hear lies...
But my eyes don't do it!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem