Nothing but feeds,
Feeds of soul,
Through your own needs.
Needs of known comfort,
Needs of perspective,
Despites of inner suffer,
Some of them quite deceptive.
Streets with fresh air,
Streets of hope fair,
Coming in our mind,
For protecting our basic ground.
Pray for love,
hopes and desire,
All may come near
as you see time disappear
set with fear
but change is near.
And thoughts can catch up the light
of this future life.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem