Not even a single word
Is mine.
I am writing with words,
And the words are
Obeying my command.
Thank God, I am here
With the words,
Knowing fully well
They are all creating
Disturbances On the highway
Of the life at pick hours.
I am about to pass away,
But the words are there
To keep me with them.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem