I see myself in shattered glass,
Reflections of a fractured past.
Each crack a story, each line a scar,
A map of who we truly are.
Some pieces glitter, some are dark,
Some hold the light, a tiny spark.
Though broken, I still see my face,
A mosaic of strength, of time, of grace.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem