If words, a gentle praise or sting,
Cause you to crumble, clip your wing,
The game of life will be a fight,
A lonely path, without much light.
For teams need strength, a sturdy hand,
To build together, understand.
If feedback breaks instead of bends,
The circle falters, friendship ends.
On every stage, in every scene,
We learn and grow, if we are keen.
But closed to words, both sharp and kind,
You'll struggle much, and lag behind.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem