This little girl,
I once knew,
Spent all her time,
Crying and yelling,
Her mother hated her,
Her father couldn’t handle her,
She was to much for her family,
She was to much for herself,
She ended her life,
With a knife in her hand,
As she sliced her wrist,
Her past disappeared.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem