All these papers,
Ornamental woods,
Glasses and medals…
Don't show the pains,
And leftover scars,
The number of times,
I retried, crawled and fell
On an unbalance scale
Of fantasy and reality
Underneath a moulting skin
Where boredom bores tears
And pains never end…
Along the marrows
Of a narrow wild life,
The scratches of bones I've lost
Tears I've shed day and night
In hope, yet led to turn down times
Strange uneasy achievements are
Somethings they just don't feel right
When the cottons are drawn…
Sacrifices, perfect on an irony drum
I bet, these things don't show
The number of times I failed
Adding more scars of hardwork.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The hard work and effort, I love it in how you express your feelings in terms of those things. Well anyway adding more scars means survival :) Thank you for sharing,