Is poetry
Just a contest
On who can be
The saddest of society
Obsessed, deranged
The outcast by choice
Disheveled, hurt
The loner with a voice
The so horribly deep introvert
She keeps her greetings curt
For she can never give too much away
For fear that they'll know she is nothing at all
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem