when they ask my age
i raise my three fingers
when they ask where
i am from, i point sky
when they ask who is
my mom, i point behind
i find it difficult to talk
they don't like my accent
they think it's so funny
i got bored to their questions
repetitive; doesn't make sense
karma; trying to be understood
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem