She is like a flower
Beautiful in her own way
When dead she is dull and sad
When in sprout she is colourful and cheery
Can be picked at, picked on and laughed at
Falls to the ground when in doubt, but grows again better and stronger
Has bad and good times but in the end she comes out on top
Sits there so quite well most of the time
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nice poem Very good!