I thought I was dreaming.
You were there when things began to change.
The air was filled with creative opinionated glee,
Then suddenly...
My name was popping up from out of nowhere.
I couldn't believe what was attributed to me.
The incredible night I spent defending my honor.
I felt every blemish and flaw exposed,
Needed special protection.
As if I was a 'mother hen'...
Battling the winds to comfort my cheeks.
Baby chicks and chin.
I had to throw that in.
Whether conscious or not,
I remain a poet.
And under 'normal' circumstances,
I wouldn't care about this.
But I knew I was being violated and I didn't like it.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Incredibly well. Excellent theme with plenty of depth. A fine 10. Kindly read and rate my poem 'A busy street' on page 1.