Down the hall,
a girl will laugh
to jokes and tales
of gossiped air
She makes her friend
a little doll
named suzie blue
with curly hair
And every night
she falls to sleep,
to tears that dwell
on poreceiline cheaks
At thirty three
this girls uneased
by boys who say
shes a pretty thing
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem