Everything seems closed and locked.
I can ask why,
Even wonder if I know you,
I like to imagine I do.
What could be the key to your mind and heart?
Perhaps it’s possible for me to masquerade that key.
And in the end,
Truly become that key.
As for now,
I stare at the locked walls in front of me.
What’s a person to do?
Fight their way in?
What would that prove?
Nothing once tossed out of the walls.
Do you not know me?
I open my book for anyone who cares to read.
And truly open,
For anyone who cares enough to read between the lines.
Like a book you as well are open,
But there’s a difference.
Torn pages.
Hidden behind your tallest strongest wall,
Locked and buried deep inside your heart.
God only knows what’s hidden on the pages of the book known as you.
I trust someday I will know,
And truly we will understand one another.
As for now I ask myself,
What are the torn pages?
And what is hidden behind that great wall.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
You want open the door, you should get the key. But the key is locked in the room. This is the 22 Army Regulation.