Ink splattered between lines
Don't worry words won't be confined
Coffined feelings exhumed
Hide nothing
Let everything go
Dreams are a reality chanting
Give them life
Even if they are not fully formed, give them life
Sometimes the best message comes incomplete
Maybe these papers are at times incubators
Messenger
Send them letters
I'll be checking the mailbox
A precious heart
I say ruby knowing I'm wrong
We're mostly underestimated
I think none can fathom the price you're worth
But God
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem