The stars look so pretty, all of them blended in a group
Then why don't the same happen with me?
Why am I the odd one out?
Ugly in pretties
Weak in strongs
Pessimistic in the optimists
Died heart in the lived hearts
Disgrace in the graces
Useless in the usefuls
Was I made like this or I created it?
Was it discovered or invented?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem