As i think I learn,
I see whats inside my head,
Things I didn't know, things that haunt me.
And I think what will change, and what will come,
Think of pain, of love,
I think of confidence, of music.
And I know everyone thinks, everyone learns through themselves.
I know this, yet I still think,
Of who I am, of what others think.
But what does that matter, all you control is yourself,
And I think,
Of life, of death,
Of everything that exists, and everything that has stopped existing.
I think of myself, of others,
And somehow I learn,
Without teachers, without being told anything,
Maybe that's why we think,
To learn, to become ourselves.
Maybe that's why we exist,
To learn through ourselves,
Maybe that's why we live.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem