If a healing was done...
Wounds would mend.
An aid would not be needed.
And the funding for it would end.
A reaping sown would not be harvested.
The need for it would be useless.
And other industries connected,
Would then have to begin.
And those seasons of creativity,
Have long been lost.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
well written. perhaps the wheat sown yesterday will start to reap itself?