I can only be the person I was born to be
but many don't want to like that
can't help the way I am
nor the way I was born
I can be in a room full of people
and yet feel all alone
walk in wearing bright clothing
and yet can still feel invisible
I can be talking to someone for a while
but still know they are not listening to me
the head nods in agreement
but the words are not heard
and I realise it's pointless trying
I can try to be the best friend of a someone
and yet they still like to take advantage
it appears they have a perverse pleasure
in sticking a blade between my ribs
I bleed just like anyone else
also most want mine not to flow
prefer me to be more like a stone
unfeeling and cold
I can only be the person I was born to be
but many don't want to like that
can't help the way I was born
but then I guess none of us can
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem