I consider myself to be the truth,
a vessel of some kind
owned by a heavenly power
which controls me like a puppet
With pen and paper in hand,
I close my eyes and write the unwritten
Words that will be passed on to generations
after me
I sing the unsung,
songs full of wisdom and love
providing hope to all corners of the earth,
from war torn Iraq to hunger engulfed Sudan
I for see the future that will be
while I dwell in the present,
slowly becoming my past
My third eye can prove so
Yet with all my visions,
I still question my abilities
Super powers have armies,
all I have is a pen and a paper
so who am I to change the world
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
thats good. A lot of compassion. Check mine out if you want.