Her life was upside down inside out.....
I was a butterfly looking for sweet flowers...
Hers was a bush of roses adorning her brow...
I poked I prodded I begged I pleaded for nought.....
Inside of the house I was trapped...............
Insideup looking out wandering around
laying down spent bent winged puffs powdered
air breathing hers....with her little straw hat,
last of the nectar store bought was the last that I saw....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem