It's so hard to figure this out,
Staring at a blank page is like living with doubt,
Deleting the sentance over and over,
I can't seem to make a poem famous as ever.
A poem isn't just about words you say,
It has feelings and adventurous ways;
A poem is like a baby,
Fragile and delicate it may as well be.
But whatever you put out on paper,
Will stay there forever:
You see - deleting and or erasing words from a simple page,
Is like life - how you can't delet or erase memories as it just moves on and stays the same.
Trying to make up a poem is very hard and not easy,
It may come to mind quickly;
But it get's harder and harder every day,
As if it were homework anyways.
A poem is made up from the heart,
To the soul and not teared apart,
So that poems are fragile as a flower,
Because poems leave a life full of power.
Succeed as you may,
But a poem may say,
That life is full of adventures,
Read the past and write the future.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem