To write is my oxygen;
it’s to breathe.
what the Lord has given me,
to express through my
silent voice.
I’m not silent,
I’m not so eloquent
to bring out points
plainly in my speech.
It’s not hard,
I just seem to get
tongue-tied right at the
beginning: when
I know I’m the one being
heard, my voice taking
the stand.
I think I’m slow,
You have to bear with
me,
give me patience.
I’ll learn to speak;
I am trying.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Good poem really liked it. Great write. May i invite you to read my new poem called, Family of lies.