Everyday I see him,
He doesn’t notice
He doesn’t see,
That I’m here
I wish he would look at me,
And really see, the real me,
Not glance,
Just look
Instead he carries on,
Walks on by,
Doing he’s things,
Seeing things that are visible
The pain he has given he doesn’t know,
Never does he notice me,
I wonder sometimes,
Is it because I’m not pretty enough
Perhaps it is true,
But maybe if I was pretty enough,
He would look,
Or even notice
I just don’t want him to notice,
The beauty,
But I guess it is the only way,
To get him to look at me
I’ll ‘n’ try,
I’ll do anything for him to look at me,
Just that one look, once,
At the real me
3/5/08
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem