Were I blind, I would not see
The hurt I caused in someone's eyes.
Were I deaf, I'd never hear
The wails of hungry masses.
Were I to lose my sense of touch
I'd never feel the pain
Of rags that chafe against my skin.
And had I not a way to smell,
The rot of mankind's waste
would not offend me.
But I am whole
And I am here.
Life at times overwhelms me
With hurt and hunger
Pain and waste.
I must live amid it all.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem