Few I knew,
Were catered to and pampered.
Or raised like prized roses...
Away from those who bloomed,
Among the killing weeds.
Few I knew,
Clutched to crutches.
Provided by sympathizers...
Who protected them from realities.
On paths with cracks,
With a stumbling done...
I've seen some do this.
And of course,
I was one!
On paths with cracks,
With no guide to lead.
Faith and courage...
Lifted those I knew from their knees.
Few I knew,
Clutched to crutches...
On paths with cracks.
Few I knew,
Were catered to and pampered.
And that's a fact.
When a standing was done,
From a fall one made...
There was little time to give to weep.
And empathy shown was little to none.
Since those I knew...
Were focused to get things done!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem