Its like living among another race.
Walking among those that you know.
But in reality there are excessive gaps in between.
Molding my thoughts.
Molding my body.
Changing all of me.
Still I do not find my place.
Yet now, I have lost my mind.
Leaving me to wonder who am I.
Maybe it is the world.
Maybe it is me.
Maybe everything is just as it should be.
Maybe the world does not see.
Perhaps it is not only you, but also me.
Or just maybe the fill picture has yet to be seen.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem