Another question comes up to me.
But I don't know the answer to.
I get so many questions from friends.
I get them on phone calls, and letters.
No one would think of asking anyone else.
They always come to me and make me think.
Another qusetion comes to me and I look upset.
But noone even asks me what is wrong.
I take another look and someone looks considered.
I get another question but this one was better.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem