Before anything, I would like to clarify: I'm Scandinavian; born with blue eyes, blond hair and light skin. Not that pretty, but relatively tall, just the type Hitler would have liked. I was raised in a lovely neighbourhood with the unfortunate tag 'ghetto' (no, not 'American ghetto', nor the ghetto type from WWII), where about 40% of the people I met on a daily basis were either from other countries or children of those – mostly from central Europe to the Middle East, but we also have quite many Vietnamese. It has never bothered me; thanks to that place and those people, that exact upbringing by my parents who welcomed any child I brou
I see you like a flower..
blooming...
you grow, and paint pictures
with your love..
with your light.
I long to reach out,
and touch..
to let my fingers linger
on your beautiful face
for just a second...
but no.
Instead,
I watch you bloom
and paint more
and more pictures
with your beauty.