Do you think I really care,
what you think of me.
Did you think that I spend my days
worrying about your thoughts.
When you never bothered to show me
that you cared.
When you were never there.
No I rarely think of you.
Just a passing memory on some days.
When I am deep in thought
your face comes to mind.
Another place, another time.
Do I really care what you think of me?
Why should I care, I can be nonchalant
and in the freedom of knowing who I really am,
I do not care and I do what I want.
Verse: Sandra Kavanagh (c) .
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem