You can tell me when
and where you were born,
where and how long you worked,
where your steps have taken you,
when and how you built a family,
but you will never say,
how many dreams you uplifted
how many thoughts you knotted,
how the words burst
and how you arranged them in verses,
page by page, night by nigh.
You will never have the ability to say
how much of your health
you gave away,
how much time you moiled,
because you won’t be understood.
Oh, work known by few,
never acknowledged!