Something somewhere
Defects are there
In our blood.
Are we
Bloodless?
Dear,
Are we not clear?
And what is our worth?
In our own air
And water
We are searching
Our own identity
With no clarity.
Dear,
Who are we?
Our own language
In jeopardy.
Definitely
We have no originality.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem