the kids have it
their ways too easy
on this play, one's offense
so easily forgiven
when they are new
they do not need much time
to befriend their own kind
they do not ask for names
when they meet they become attuned
to their feelings
and the all become one gang
of friends in the neighborhood
there are quarrels and petty
as they seem to be
but they do not fight wars
for that long
peace perhaps shall reign
when we become children again
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem