I got the urge to write,
To fight
And not to hide
From the fear inside.
I realise that I got to rise
And chase after my dream.
I got no time to play nice,
And so I rise.
It is me verses my dream.
I don't need force my pen to write
When the ink is low.
Everything will be alright,
Poems will still flow.
And when they do,
I will write all night.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem