She still cakes me: by the name
My blood mother loved to call me with.
But that was then, when she use to be with
Us: in the same yard. Me with no aim.
The one I call my fraternal twin,
A lady; is the one who calls me with that name.
If one calls my name, I feel at home.
At nine, I like it. Now I l've it and I'm nineteen.
My mother is gone now,
And left me with something odd.
Yes, I am the one who own
It. I always thank God.
The subject is not my desire,
But the tag, I admire.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem