You have it
You need it
You love it
You loath it
It's something you're born with
You sometimes wish you weren't
Then you realise you're and idiot
You can't wait to leave
To be independent
To be self-titled 'me'
The you realise it's not
All it; s cracked up to be
You realise you miss those days
You remise,
Trying to make up with them
You realise it's to late
So now
You miss it
You want it
You need it
You didn't loath it
You love it
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem