Down this road while we're walking,
Passing by them mean men,
I can't believe my two eyes -
You held your head your high.
Each one carry something like scar.
Think you mind I cry.
Lucky being young and fine,
For you this ain't hard.
Fright gets ahead of myself.
But you got something.
For me, it's overwhelming.
You're still eleven.
'They're rather nonsense, ' you said.
Your opinion's right.
Eyes of you look straight ahead.
Sure you'll see the light.
Taking steps, I'm on my feet.
Pace of change halts hurt.
You own the marching band's beat.
It's so good to hear.
You mindlessly inspire me.
The heaven can see.
What you did ain't on a whim.
Willpower with aim meant well.
Yeah, that's what I learned.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem