Either it be Dark,
Either it be Bright.
I cry every Morning,
I cry every Night..
Deep their in the Buckle,
Cuts and Swells are their.
My Mouth waters for food,
But the ache,
the mighty ache is all I fear..
I am Handsome my own way,
No pimples, acne and even I have no Scars.
But this wire,
This wire took the prettiness of my Face,
This wire and clips resemples to me Jail Bars.
Either it be Metal; Ceramic or Alloy,
What so ever it be on my teeth.
Tightening and Loosening are my Nightmares,
When They will come off.
That day; I will purely Breath.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem