They will tell you
All poetry has been written
There is nothing new
Under the moon
But let me tell you
They don’t know you
You are as unique
As the DNA that exists
Within your frame
The ripples on your thumbprint
No one ever had the same.

Listen...

You have something to say
Say it proudly
Say it boldly
Never let them scold you.

Never let them make you go away.

Sometimes I feel that when I was born,
someone else has ended their life unfinished,
cut too short.

I tried to turn it back, but it's really hard,
impossible in fact, to round it up and let it end,
it's too late now.

Sometimes it bothers me, it calls from within,
the unfinished life of someone
before me.