I let go of the poem that just came to my mind
(Despite the fact that it could turn out to be my masterpiece)
I let go of the sharp pencil and my neat, clean sheet of paper.
And to inhale the freedom
I go outside and take a deep breath.
On the horizon I see a furious army of words
rampaging toward my house
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I really like this. The ending is extremely scary and encouraging at the same time.