When I was a child I remember vividly,
This young woman reaching for sheets to hang...
In one of the community spaces used,
To hang and dry washed clothes.
And I wondered to myself,
While watching from our second floor three room apartment.
Shared by my sister and parents...
If those sheets hung,
Were hand washed.
'I like it.
This is a touching personal interest story,
We can introduce during the next debate.
And remember...
To look right into the camera,
As your lower lip begins to quiver.'
What about a tear?
Let me repeat it again.
With a tear at the end.
'Only from the left eye.
That's when we give you a closeup.
Then begin to lower your head.'
Don't you think,
That would be overly dramatic?
'Of course it is.
But we have to go with the momentum.
That last debate and your appearance,
Left everyone stunned.
Go deeper emotionally.
It will guarantee another win.
Take a ten minute break.
And we will begin again from the top.'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem