Feeling of poem

What more can I say
I gave everything
In the light
In warm, cool air
The door opened
In young creeping plants
Everything is up.
What did not go to the ears
What is not bad in the heart
What did not rise in the sky
The time has not come
Didn't read what I thought
What color did not color.
But why hide
Turn off the moonlight
Far away
With feeling
This is me.

Writer’s Me (Taniya)