You help to create me
But yet you don’t know my name.
Your blood flows through my veins
But you don’t know my name.
When I look in the mirror it are your eyes staring back at me.
Yet you don’t know my name.
It was your womb that feed and nursed me until I was born.
And still you don’t know my name.
You abandon me on a doorstep with no name.
Mom my name is Francis Lee Hanson.
So now you know my name.
Wow this is really deep. It sneaks up on you. You assume it's referring to a crush (or at least I did) and then bam. I like it even though it makes me feel sad.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
deep..but could not figure out the allusions.. is it an addressed to your innerself? ? ..a search for identity? ?