There's something about feeling different.
It's like sailing without an anchor.
Tossed about the foamy waves
of antipathy and rancor.
Not really ever knowing oneself,
toting a bag of useless tools.
Drifting just in sight of land
on this pitiful ship of fools.
Some eventually tire of this mess
thoughts have need to be addressed.
Inky water black as night.
They kick and flail with all their might.
A place in this world
Is worth the fight.
The lame can walk and the blind
have sight.
My hope is this message touches
your heart.
We're really not so far apart.
- R -
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem