Sitting.
Lonely.
They think, she’s cool.
Brave.
But they don’t know,
Her heart.
Her inner hurts.
The time she spends,
Alone.
They think, she’s smart,
Talented.
But they don’t know,
Her mistakes.
Her screw-ups.
The times she gave up,
Crying.
If only they would look,
Then they would see,
That she,
Is ME.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem