War is like a fifth wheel
on a thin line
At a fork in the road
Where the only elbow room
Is to eat one's words
To feel out of place
While all the while
Drowning one's sorrows
To drive someone else crazy
About how you can die of boredom
Whole holding your breath
With each other's throats
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem