Even if I stood completely naked,
You would not accept...
My willing preparedness to be inspected.
You would think I had something to hide...
Or deny.
Something to try to lie about!
And with every flaw and blemish shown,
You would still believe...
I had 'something' up my sleeve unknown.
I've have always been comfortable,
Within my own skin.
Naked or clothed that's how it has been!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem