It was a dark and stormy breakfast,
The toast was damp and I wondered why we had never purchased a roof on our 5 floor apartment, (of course it was technically 1 floor as it had no roof on any of the floors) , the jam was not red but red with blood as was the marmite which was actual; l blood, DEATH! ! !
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem