she smiles then stands up
because i am
though i like her
few even talk to me
about it
my parents make good money
and i do my best
i really do
but their, in front of me
when she leans up and over
too speak to her mirror
our eyes meet
i grow week
and i know she knows
i don't
even know the undergrowth
and she smiles
at me
then stands up
and does this little dance
just like a bee..
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem