They are aweful,
Disgusting and despicable creatures.
'Your children or mine? '
Not ours.
Those brats living across the street.
'Tell me about it.
Some of the things that come out of my kids mouths,
If I thought them...
I'd have no teeth today.'
You should have heard the things they called me,
Just yesterday.
'I told them not to use language like that,
Outside of the house.'
Not your kids.
I've gotten use to them.
I'm talking about those heathens living over there.
'And you can't say a word to their parents about that either.
They are right there defending them.
With all kinds of excuses to make.'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem