Psychotic girls whose dreams never die
They'll make it far and clear
Those who claim their minds quiver at catastrophe
They're mad and insincere
For girls who have been straight jacketed by fears
Climb and claim no land
They've already won the foot race
They're bombarded with bags of sand
Stop judging the girls who have slit their throats
They need solace too
No wonder we all think they're mad
It may just be you who through the shoe
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem