One day at Granny's house, my aunt harmed me bad.
That's the only time I've seen Granny, at her, mad.
We were acting silly, while playing with Q-tips.
I had them in my ears when my eardrum was ripped.
My aunt clapped her hands around my fragile head.
I remember feeling strange, so I sat down on the bed.
Granddad's brother had been missing; a diesel truck, he drove.
With Father, I went for hamburgers, so no one could light the stove.
Riding home from Bonham, I sat in the backseat.
My eardrum was throbbing and I could not think to eat.
My pain was dismissed, and this episode was ignored.
I have suffered from this, with headaches that have roared.
For headaches, I've seen doctors; one even broke my nose.
None of them fixed my problem, as how it often goes.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem