Who go against the grain?
Like a gum tree do?
Who speak with purpose
To obtain the knowledge
Of a few?
Who hear the call, from afar,
Howling through the woods?
They'll admit the certain scar
That comes with Grace of Good.
We prancing softly about
The streets, observing how
They move.
As we dancing to the beat
With EVERYTHING to prove.
I see you there amongst
The crowd with all your
Pours contrasting.
Now, be everlasting.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem