You are all a lone, and no one knows who you really are,
not a single soul to talk to, cast a glance, or share a wink.
And as you put up your brick wall, you wonder,
what do these people think?
Quiet, shy-too scared to say a word-
stuck behind walls made of glass that no one wants to be broken,
yet shatter to the ground when a single word is spoken.
What do these people think?
Snobby girl, who thinks she is too good to talk to us.
Quiet girl, bookworm girl, knows so much more than us girl.
Athletic girl, not a blackbelt girl, such a lovely nice girl.
That is what these people think.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem