Sometimes I wish I had been less obstinate.
With a readiness to be more subdued.
I often reminisce about this.
But then I think of it from time to time,
With a knowing that it took a willingness to stay put.
Right where I found myself.
Even if I hated every moment of it.
And let those circumstances be what they will be.
I have discovered that a tearing down of a brick wall,
Usually leaves the one behind it left to go untouched.
Without chips, scratch marks or blood stains on it.
Today...
I look for a door to knock on.
And if it's locked...
It's locked!
Why dropp tears?
Or spend time wasted thinking of doors,
When I can get up to make one.
And...
Put my own lock on it to open or close as I choose.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem