Why you gotta stare at me
with those glossy eyes?
They cheapen everything they see
Two brown spheres like swap meet suns
Put a paper tag around my neck
Price me at a dollar ninety-nine
Your discounting gaze
Turns me into a street pebble
I need a jeweler to bring out my shine
Oh no not those flea market eyes
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem