I'm content with who I am,
And where I've come
Where I began.
I'm pleased with the boy
Who grew to be the man.
From youth's adversity
From toil and work,
To a grown up family,
I dedicated myself
To those I loved the most.
They claimed my fall
Was my choice.
But that's too simple,
It's more complex,
It wasn't extra-marital sex.
It wasn't male brutality,
It wasn't really up to me.
That kind of choice is insanity.
The option that might best explain,
Was my inebriated brain.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem