One can be in a prison,
and yet free to walk down the street;
Blind to the beauty of the things they see,
or the people they meet.
Oblivious to the fact,
that they have so caused much pain;
Or that the water that falls upon their face,
is tears rather then rain.
Ones heart can be so fridged cold,
yet smile can be so sweet.
Can seem outwardly compassionate,
and loving to whom they meet.
But the front it will not last,
people will soon find out;
That you are nothing but a fake and fraud,
with that fact have no doubt!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem