I have this friend,
she made some bad choices.
Sometimes she thinks it's the end,
ignorant to helpful voices.
Yeah, I have this friend,
he made some wrong turns.
Some he couldn't mend,
all he got was burns.
So I have theses friends,
and they've made wrong decisions.
Some with a catchy trend,
others catching tensions.
Yeah, they're still my friends,
they just need direction.
Who am I to judge them in the end,
when they've only flaws in this one section?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem