In the verses that I write
I record my life.
My happiness, my sorrow rife,
My dreams, my fears,
My unsolicited tears,
My unkempt thoughts
My beliefs that rots
Within my lonely mind.
I am a deceptive man,
So is every free human.
But in these few verses,
I have offered you no versions,
For here I have never devised
Any lie nor any truth revised.
In the verses that I write,
I am what I am.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem