I watch you people.
With your happy faces.
Your sweet talk.
You are mean to people.
Then curse someone for being mean to you.
That doesn't make sense.
Talk about people's looks.
When they're not like you.
And it's not their fault.
They can't change.
And then.
You're not perfect.
You're ugly.
Inside.
And sometimes I envy you people.
Wishing I could be like you.
Hurt someones feelings,
And not feel guilty.
Not feel better until I say apologize.
And they forgive me.
And not regret it.
And you beautiful people.
You handsome people.
Hurt people who are not as good-looking as you.
When you know every time
You degrade them,
They still want to be like you.
To be you, really.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem