What am I if not a dirty rag you toss to the floor once work is done
What am I if I cant put a smile on the face of a child much less the world
Would I be the undermine imbecile you snicker about once my back is turned
Or would I be an ant you just step on
Recite my pain if you feel so wise
But do not mock me as a prize
The wilting in your conscience and humane heart is as rotten fruit
Not even the ravens would want
Hide your eyes behind the veil
Cause your beauty is so painful it may cause me pain
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem