Her sleeves were ragged, torn by life, the friction,
the work, the hassle, the strain,
of trying to figure it out &
keep people happy,
the sacrifice:
of not looking your best,
so others can.
In the moments of reflection,
you could see how it affected her.
In those moments you can see her heart.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem