Sometimes I wish my failures
Were fairy tales, I’d never meet,
Sometimes I wish my deepest fears
Were not the sound made by my own feet,
As I walk through the dark lanes,
Of shivery fear – my life,
But I cannot change my own fate,
Except a little as I try to rise,
From the endless pit of misery,
Surrounded with imposters by my side,
As I’m trying to solve this mystery,
With trust, hope and love made vile,
With no clues but the forgotten blues,
And still I hold on, still I rise.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem