Attracting to beckon,
Like no other lure.
Never to forget,
The moment I discovered it.
My outlet.
A blank cemented wall.
And I then had been a child.
Learning each letter of the alphabet.
Later taught with letters together,
I could make words.
Words to speak and others to hear.
Beginning for me this memory not to leave,
The love I have to write.
On that wall.
Still remaining in my sight.
Some would call a hobby.
But not quite so simplified.
It is much more like a part of my life.
Kept redefined over time.
Yet seldom am I left pleased to leave,
What has been expressed on a canvas.
Becoming too vast.
As I age to grow.
Knowing more about life.
Although not enough to depict,
Everything life offers to experience it!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem