If I'd stop here
To look back
I'd only see myself
for all that I lack
And Beauvoir claims
That the only way
in wich one can know the Self
Is through the words that others say
We are in no relation
to the person that is us
But through the sorrounders definition
My memories are only loss
I lost a part of myself
throughout every heartbeat
Seems a failure exhibition
this life only of the regarded meat
So I praise the ability
of my own point of view
My mind's redemption
Is to my memories due
My mind and body
are not that wide apart
I must rely on the assumption
That a greater future lies in my heart.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem