I'm a tender shoot
A dry twig on an arid land
I walk with a blurry gaze
Just like the tinted glass
Of the church hall after it rains
I'm a floating leaf
All alone amidst the vast forest
Spiraling with the current
Of the unforgiving wind
As my rough edges
Become more tattered
I'm a rolling stone
A discarded pile of rock
On a sloppy descent
To an avoidable peril
Of which I refuse to avoid yet still
I've sacrificed much
So much of the wrong things
Like my happiness for the joy
Of people who didn't care
And my self image
I've allowed to be dictated by others
But at least a tender shoot
Can bend more than break,
And a leaf amidst other leaves
Forms a beautiful collage
As the rolling stone
Which falls through hard places
Has gathered stubbles along the way
So have I, yet still, I remain afloat.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem