When I was born.
I was chosen to run free.
I had a dream last night,
of sweets, chocolates and ambrosia.
And in the midst.
Of all the smoke and debris.
There I stand, wondering?
Will I be free?
And my dream came true.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I like how you captured his thoughts in this little piece. I marvel at the boy's survival instinct! Good poem!