Who cares what you think?
Who cares about your clothes?
I dont think you realize
That this whole thing is getting old.
So let me stand and be the one to say
Who cares that you have money?
Who cares that you think your great?
Popularity is fleeting
But knowledge is forever
arm your self with books
A pencil is your sword
A piece of paper a shield
So although they laugh now
It is all about the last laugh any how.
But i guess there is a place for people like you
On the streets
In the dumpster
looking for food
Or better yet
a no one.
Who cares who you are right now?
Think about what you'll end up as in 20 years from now.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem
excellent piece, thanks for sharing