You sit left to me,
You don't wanna see,
What's really inside me.
Do you want to hurt me?
You could tell it everyone!
Would it make you feel better?
You don't know anything about me.
My new name for you is 'ABC'
I don't need lipstick for attention,
I also never owned extentions.
The only problem I ever had was you
and what you used to do.
And the last thing I tell you about me,
is why you're so much weaker than me:
You only blance on a tightrope that's lying on the floor,
I'm doing the same but over a huge gorge.
©
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Keep this going. I like it.