Don’t lie when your mother ask if you have something to tell her.
Don’t lie if you see a wooden spoon in the middle of the lounge room table.
Don’t lie when you walk into the house and your sister tells you you’re dead.
Don’t lie if you walk into the kitchen and your parents look like they were waiting for you.
Don’t lie if you were the only person in the house when the glass ballerina mysteriously broke.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem