i hold in my hand
the key to the door
to the room where
pretending no longer works
where half way trying
doesnt get it done
where just getting by
is no longer enough
where the truth doesnt allow
anything less, and doesnt
accept anything more!
where the image in the mirror
is real, and has to be dealt with!
and time is the reason,
and the driving force
that wont allow me
to be anything or
anybody else
than me!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem