feeling like a
wuss
the feeb
in her
seems to be ineffectual
now
amidst the
shrubs and bushes
she breaks away
walking under the sun
bowing her head
hiding her eyes
under the shade of
her gray fedora hat
she is not
a quitter all she wished
is that she becomes
another
Bob Dylan
and i know
all the wimps
cannot hold her
back
she simply decides
to be otherwise
beginning
this day
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem