So much hurt, so much strain, so much alienation
Lack of work, numb with pain, causing much frustration
Still refined, poised and kind, yet no appreciation
Only time, knows how I, will influence many nations.
Since a child, in the mind, I had cultivated.
Thoughts that rhyme, are sublime or just plain creative
But no spine, had I then, to be so liberated
As to write, publicize, my thoughts now regurgitated
I know the sad life, I now lead will soon be recreated
To one with purposeful beauty, that to the world is permeated
Because the words that I now speak have been much contemplated.
While the pain that I now feel will be emaciated.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem