We sometimes overlook possibilities too easily.
Stereo typing ones personalities.
As if grouping them in all the same category will make them more insignificant.
Instead of making exceptions and accepting that not everyone is at your level.
Some people have the right complain.
They use their voice the best way they know how.
Not making excuses for themselves and acting all proud.
Every set back is disheartening as the first.
A well developed verse.
But it still sounds so rehearsed.
Reaching for perfection till the day we die.
Putting the dull knife in the fire to give it a better edge.
With a hammer and some pliers this is how we survive.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem