peters on his own she said
peering through the window
at the boy under the tree
true i replied
he is made a little different
doesnt think like you or me
he has no friends she said
some big girls pushed him
and made him run away
its difficult I replied
for him to understand things
things that help you play
peter is my friend she said
just because he isn't clever
i wouldnt make him go
oh sweetie I replied
I think you'll find
thats all he needs to know
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A refined poetic imagination, Jack. You may like to read my poem, Love And Iust. Thank you.