Open up the chips bag.
Dip into the cheese dip.
I am never up for grabs.
I AM no bag of chips.
Always the color green.
Everyone seems to be mean,
The moment I'm seen.
The bag is pretty much empty,
Maybe two chips or three.
No matter, even if I could pray,
I will always get thrown away.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem