The insult's hid beneath bushels
And bailings, of compliments;
For it's mankinds way to hide the blade
Inside other implements.
My words though, are unwaxxed ones,
My intention bodes no wound;
There is no weapon hidden,
No pain in my words, bound.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
That's a reason why your poems and words always liked by the others, No hurt hidden, no bleed to see, only true words said and free :) In our living we must meet someone who act like you said above...for me just say what you want but it wont change the truth we have..Right Patti? .. :) Unwritten Soul