Delicate boy,
By now you should be a man
But you don’t walk,
You crawl
You don’t see things for what they are,
You judge and are offended by that which is different
You preach your beliefs to all who’ll stand to hear,
But you spend all day wasting your time in your room
You’ll never grow up,
No matter how old you get
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem