It shouldn't.
But it does...
Sit,
Within my consciousness.
Grown folks.
Still between maturity,
And provoking childish sentiments.
They can't get over themselves,
Or events from those days...
Time has from them erased.
But there they remain,
Trying to change...
What is.
As if what isn't is there for them to relive!
To recapture to re-interpret their misdeeds.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem