I keep meeting people and lovers who want to
Make some fantasy of me,
Some ethereal lover from pink clouds and sea foam.
They create me into this spectacular person,
An otherworldly figure made of dandelions and grass
But when I peer into the looking glass,
I only see a fragile girl, lost in the fantasies of others
You tell me so much of what you made me up to be
That I, sometimes forget, it is okay to be flawed.
It is okay to be human, it is okay
to be real and genuine to myself.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The subject is serious, but the title is funny - thanks for the needed laugh and remain strong.