Once in a (while
your heart isn't looking)
along comes little someone
who (quite casually)
lifts you up tall and asks:
are you my friend?
And your heart smiles and does its dance,
then you hold little someone close
and blush,
yes...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
yes, i love people like that. they make you feel..... not worshiped, but respected and almost admired.