How can I write here when the walls have poetry?
And my soul is satisfied
When art hovers in the air and dances free?
When the heart has been explored over scones and tea?
How can I write when Keats once live down the street?
And Shakespeare rests beneath my feet?
What is there to add to the words of the greats?
With all that has been explored between love and hate
Do I lay to rest my pen?
Do I throw it to the air and in their words swim?
How can I write all that is in my heart and soul,
When my tale has been told
With far more tender grace
With far more eloquence and pace?
Please do check my grammar and spelling,
For I much to learn if I have a tale for the telling.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem