I have long brown hair;
hers is long and blonde and smoother than mine
I write poems or stories or songs;
she writes too, but her poems are more poetic
I get angry and sarcastic;
She holds her tongue.
I love my sisters and brother silently;
She smiles and encourages them...
But in the end, I don't see that you are better,
I only see that you are beautiful, my sister.
Perhaps you see the same about me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I wonder. Does she see you are struggling? She probably loves you just as you are....you make her sound perfect. Comparing ourselves is not good, but we are so accustomed to doing so to glorify or frustrate ourselves.