'Cause the first-person-plural advantage
is a benefit that hurts sometimes
is time better spent
is what you don't want to invent
is your own good in despair
'cause at your parents' house it's just not fair.
Is the locker you're taking shelter in
is that ancient corner that you wish to keep
is the essence of fig's leaves
for when it comes to me
that's what I'll always be.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem