An exaggerated cough,
Leading to a dramatic cry.
She's speaking in writing,
But crying out for help.
She's leaning on his shoulder,
Learning new things each day.
Can't think too much anymore,
It's only just the beginning.
Each morning,
She lets out a long yawn.
It's a another start of the next day,
What's to come of it?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem