Please, let me know where I come from
people say I'm a woman,
but I cannot say what I am or what I was.
I've worked hard in those years
imaginary angels have patted me on the back
saying "you've learned well."
hear me, father,
It's me talking to you
do you remember my face?
I think I cannot play anymore
Now I figure out the glass doll you gave me is one of your beer bottles,
but in the past, I played with her.
Are you living beautiful days?
You can tell me about them in my dreams
I can forgive everybody in my sweet dreams.
I will hear your stories carefully
Sir, have you ever felt to be the best for someone?
Maybe you couldn't manage this role?
Maybe I didn't deserve the best.
Listen to me,
let me know where I come from
beloved puppet of my affection dreams.
stepka
Great poem i am also a poem writer.
sending this post to curie.
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