Before you speak of who I am,
Or weigh my worth with quiet damn,
Step in my shoes, feel every stone—
The path I walk, I walk alone.
Trace the miles where I have bled,
The nights I wept, the fears I fed.
Carry the weight I've had to bear,
Then tell me if I'm weak or rare.
You see the smile, the calm disguise,
But not the storms behind these eyes.
You judge the pace, the way I move,
Yet never walked to find the proof.
So take a breath, and take my stride,
Through broken dreams I've learned to hide.
And if you reach where I now stand,
You'll know the strength that shaped this land
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem