In the quietness of thought.
I drift.
Welcoming an imagined wonderment.
To notice.
Gone is emphasis placed on one's race.
With no trace of bigotry.
Seen or heard to speak of it.
Or expressed to appear,
Etched with lines upon a face.
In the quietness of private thoughts.
In the quietness of my drifting thoughts.
Not a negative opinion,
Is sought or brought to mind.
And I sit to wonder...
Why is it so many can find the time.
To wish for happiness and good lives,
Wanting to live.
But can not imagine this into existence.
As if reality lived in conflict,
Is a preference most have chosen.
Since more have found this acceptable.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem