Could it be my chest it too small
Or my hips are to wide
That makes you judge me from what's on the outside
And not from what's on the inside
Could it be my hair is too short
Or my eyes are to close
That makes you wana be my friend or foe
No?
Could it be that you judge me by what yo see
Or could it be the real me
You See
Inside this poem
Of FLOETRY
Could it be the way I talk
Maybe it's the way I walk
That makes you stick your nose up at me
And judge me by what you see
Hum
You ought to be ashamed
You see
Its not me, its you
You are the one to blame
Could it be my chest is too small
Or my hips are too wide
That makes you judge me from what's on the outside
And not form what's on the inside
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
It takes a mature person to get to a point where you realise it is not you who has to change.... a good poem, and I like the repeating of the first lines at the end..