the scar that you kept
deep in your will
you want but you can't
quite keep it still
when blood rushes your face
and runs down your neck
beneath bitter eyes
it can't help but reflect
and I notice it yet
from afar in your words
that were sewn with the blade
of a dull rusting sword
'you have to settle for something'
engraved in small letters
they all told us to fly
and then plucked out our feathers
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem