Some thoughts are private to oneself
sharing them would feel like a sin.
But by not showing who you are,
how can someone know the person within?
There are people who wear their feelings on their sleeve,
and she just happens to be one of them.
Keeping her feelings bottled up inside,
Would feel like she’s not being herself.
Her door would be closed,
No entering to happen.
But with a smile, laugh, or cry
she shows who this person in this body really is.
Who lets anger, beauty and sin,
Enter the gates of her mind, soul, and heart
The feeling choosing the place to live.
Where the beauty of the body starts.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem