The unexpressed tales, like whispers in the wind
Whispers that carry stories never to begin
Memories trapped in the depths of the mind
Thoughts too precious to leave behind
The stories of heartache, love, and pain
Of laughter, joy, and sun after the rain
Of hope, dreams, and life's mystery
All waiting to be set free
But the words escape, like sand through the hand
And the tales remain untold, no audience to
stand
So they dance in the shadows, hidden from sight
Longing to be heard, on this beautiful night
Yet the thread of words, and the creativity of mind
Weave together a tapestry, of the tales we hope to find
And in the weaving, a voice begins to speak
Bringing to life, the stories we seek
So let us take hold of that thread of words
And with our minds, let the tales be heard
For in their telling, we find our own voice
And bring to life, the stories we have to rejoice.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem