He was standing at the crossroads
With a map drawn on his hand
A life’s worth of pain wrapped inside him
That no one cared to understand
No place ahead for him
But only broken a childhood left behind
Scared to stay walk away and scared to remain
But still he says his final good byes
To the trees that once had helped hide him
When the rain came down hard and slow
A good bye to the dusty road that had held him
A prisoner with no hope
Born and raised in poverty
His dreams died when he was young,
All the fears that boiled inside him
He needed to overcome
His steps forward maybe slow and unsteady
But they are the first into a great wide unknown
He begins his climb out from the wastelands
Opens his book, to write the first page of a new life
And yes,
He knows,
He's still an undiscovered soul
In life’s great wide unknown
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem