I am very sensitive.
I am very sweet.
I avoid stepping on ants,
as I walk
down the street,
and I pat the
head
of every child I meet.
I kiss the inquisitive eyes,
and rub the little feet.
For indeed, I am sensitive.
And indeed I am sweet.
I
internalize the pain
of everyone's defeat in life.
And I share my bread.
And I share my meat.
For that's how sensitive I am.
And that's how sweet.
I face life without need
for deception,
and conceit.
I am very sweet.
I am very sweet.