They hear the hurtful names.
They see the tears roll down my face.
They don’t feel my pain.
Another day comes.
They still hear the hurtful names.
They once more see my tear stain face.
They don’t bother to tell.
I have no friends,
No one to talk to.
I see their tear stain faces and,
I stick up for them,
I tell
but they still never return the favor
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem