My face...
My face does not tell the tale of my past
It does not tell the hell and how long it had lasted...
It does not tell the mileage of all my past school shoes...
It does not tell the anger of the frustrations of my past life...
Believe it or not..it does not tell that it was spat on...
It does not tell that it was looked upon with contempt and despair...
It does not tell that others looked at it and said these are not the faces which make it in life..
It does not tell the frowns from the headaches of hunger...
It does not tell the litres of the sweat that passed on it during all my endevours..
But now...
But now people look at it and think in their hearts that I do not know what they are passing through...
Oh! How easily they judge...
If only they knew...
if only they knew...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Thanks Kelly..I am new here so iy means a lot..