Parents are people
who take us to the steeple.
Every Sunday morning,
they make us pray with the people.
Parents get angry
when we break their things.
When they scold us,
we wish we had wings.
Parents are loving,
they are all the time.
They calm us down when we are angry
and make us drink sweet lime.
My parents are loving
and are to everyone very kind.
They stand out from the world,
different, with a bright shine.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem