we have chameleons
here
and every time we
meet
they do not just
change their colors
oh, they change their
names,
adopt another kind
of personality,
enter your door and
walk out
without much fuss,
and when you finally
say that you
do not mind at all,
they change back to
their original selves
and then
tell you their
real names, where they
were born
and where they really
like to live,
but preoccupied with
your own
confusion, you too
do the same
walk out from their
lives
and care about
nothing at all.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem