When camping, at Glenn Hills. The Rhinestone
cowboy, I got to know. We'd meet every year or
so. We walk the trails and to our favorite rock
we go. Although everything that glittered wasn't
gold. He was a bit bold. But, I cared for him
more than told. For he was my first kiss, as we
held hands. Around age 4,5, or so.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem