I used to ask you about your brother,
To keep you from knowing how I felt about you.
I thought it would make it easier,
Because I didn't want to lose you too.
I love how we would used to speak to each other,
To me you were my hope.
Now I know I was just another,
Now being high is how I cope.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem