I've been known to have alot of grief,
The one thing that bothers me most is to be called by thief,
I make alot of mistakes,
Its like I'm playing baseball and haven't even got to first base,
I make people so angry,
They're tention fills me deep and it's seems that they hate me,
I sit and feel sorry for myself,
As I sit and watch my friends who no longer want me around,
I realize what I've done,
Now I'm left here alone still watching them, they start to run,
I stold from my neighbors,
Now I get called so many names,
Thief, liar, two faced, But They'll never know that these names bring alot of pain
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Awww, sorry you keep writing