this perception
of reality
isnt reality at all
its nothing
its percieved to be
its not an open book
you cant look right through
you cant judge
and assume that to be so
because what u see
is not everything,
or anything u thought it would be
the girls who seems so happy,
goes home to cut
and cries herself to sleep
she looks in the mirror
and doesnt like what she shes
and that girl is me
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem