Had the story of my life told
But just in one direction
Told of how enduring I was to the struggle
For the battle was fought deep within me
For days my feet hurting, knuckles bruised
If only the pen to write cast more ink, more light
To the reality of the rollercoaster life
No to miss the ups nor over stress the downs
Neither to take rest but continue shedding light
Express the low in its depth and heights to the pinnacle
Ditches I found myself caught up in
Hallways I found myself treading paths of highness
The story in one direction
To paint the rough dull picture along white flames of glory
To talk with zeal of the moments I rose to the occasion
And not deprive this audience of the moments
Moments I fell to proud or weak to rise and take my stand
With a simple voice the story still is told
Told but often in one direction
The saint's direction casting shade on the sinners direction.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem