I am dying inside,
I am crying inside,
Nobody hears my voice
Nobody sees my face . . . I am dying inside,
But I had that to hide . . .
Faces don't have a fame
Masks are preferred much more . . . I don't share that grace . . .
I'll put on my "face"
And cross over the wall . . .
To join the fancy ball . . .
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem