16.04.12

You tell me to go to bed,
But I protest - night, hold on,
Next time I open my eyes alone,
No one will be here to greet me.

These days I do nothing but make male heads spin,
Around me they stroll like homeless dogs
And venerably kiss the back of my hand,
They tell me that I am a graceful woman.
Am I special? I don't know,  
But you always make me feel special,  
And I do trust in your words,
I do probably more than you.

And I've been actually ill for months,  
Not being able to eat got me a nice pair of pretty lady legs,
My skin ivory coloured,
My lips as dry as the desert is
And there is no hand in this world
I would like to be held by,
For I am blessed with steady feet.

You will never understand, mother,
Why I am perfectly fine with older man.