The depth of the soul is something that can’t be measured.
Like the roots of a massive tree.
People see the limbs. The outer scars and wounds.
And they think they know it. They think they understand.
So much is happening underneath the soil.
The twists and turns of fate. Of life.
This forest of beating hearts goes untended.
Each tree encased in glass. A bubble of intent.
We see others lost inside theirs.
But never experience what it’s like for them.
Outside looking in. The shallow minds judgments.
Learn to feel for others pain.
Understand we see the world differently.
When you are laughing someone is crying.
While you sleep someone else is dying.
Wake up.
Don’t only use your eyes.
Use your heart. Use your mind.
Learn to understand. To accept.
Wake up!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem