Years have past, new deeds been done
and i crossed the line of death.
Some wars were lost and others won,
but i did find love in the end.
I met a boy who loved me so,
he held my hand in the dark.
He gave up himself to become my home,
and i pray that we'll never part.
I found some friends who made me smile,
they accepted me for me.
we all had fun in the strangest style,
and with them i'll always be pleased.
I gained some scars over my time,
they mark my pale skin.
a story comes with each scarred line,
full of sadness and more within.
Though I've seen sadness and the colours of hell,
i refuse to give up hope.
i have all these people, these stories to tell,
my life is great a 'tightrope'.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem