Brushing away forces put upon a child is difficult after
a number of years have passed and middle-age has begun.
Jettisoning pieces around a mind, attempting to put
together, an unfinished puzzle, causes anxiety and panic.
Sometimes two parts will come together, causing great fear
to rise from depths of being.
Crowding, growing wildly, weeds of abuse flourish and it
is hard to find the way.
Searching for answers leaves an emptiness that cannot be
filled until the whole picture becomes clearer.
Crystal cathedrals will not rise inside, because of the past,
left over from constant abuse.
Rising above heights of a lonely horizon is seemingly done
only through eyes of sight, because feelings are buried deep
in caskets of steel, unable to be opened and brought forward.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem