My Peter is a little runt;
he's barely one inch tall.
He's never tried a risky stunt;
he fears that he might fall.
He was invited to the dance
and thought that he might go,
but then decided there's no chance
that he would ever grow.
Oh, Peter, that poor little runt,
who stands just one inch tall,
he'll never battle on the front;
there's just no chance at all.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Well expressed thoughts and feelings. An insightful creation written with conviction.