A busy street, framed by a sidewalk and buildings on each side.
a pawn shop,
doesn't stand out...
It is here I stand, watching from behind a wall of glass,
A smile frozen on my face, my eyes are glassy,
Void of emotion.
My hands are neatly folded in front of me, hands of porcelaine...perfect.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem