Of laughter, I know little
Except the smiles in your eyes.
My own joy was there
When you were happy.
But oh so many times,
In return for the joy
I tried so hard to foster,
You would turn
And mock my efforts,
Call me a fool,
Laugh at me.
Was that your pleasure?
That was my pain.
Your laughter,
My tears.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
powerful writer bv n10