Too many people never become the person of their dreams and
that's a disservice to all of mankind, all hopes, desires,
ideas and wants in life are draped within our minds.
Waiting to be discovered, rearranged and fitted properly to
our individual beings, thoughts filling everyone's minds,
varied, totally different and matching their personalities.
Not just watching interiorly, but grasping hold of them,
using, finding their essences as we constantly wend our
way into our future selves, having at last found our
mission in life and become our dreams at last.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem