I've spent days
Weeks
Months
Years
Wondering
How am i the only one
From my peers
Who writes
Poetry.
I've realized
I'm one
Of the privileged few
Who can sit
In silence
With their thoughts
Pen it down
on paper
To eternity.
I could visit
A psychiatrist
Who would tell me more
Than I know.
I could seek refuge
In an institutional mob,
Hold hands
And sing kumbaya.
I could confide
In a friend
Who would provide
A shoulder to lean on.
I could escape
Into the arms
Of a lover.
But i am with myself
And these neatly strung words,
this is me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem