I can tell you when looks can kill you dead.
It's when it doesn't matter that your blood runs red.
It's when it doesn't matter what you're like within.
It's when all that matters is the color of your skin.
It's when it's about the length of your nose and how it bends.
It's when it's about how you wear your hair at the very ends.
It's when it's about the hat you have on top of your head
and the clothes you put on after rising out of bed.
(C)2014 Copyright Elena Plotkin
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
nice composition.. well written