Oh the answers
Depend on your mood
Your name
On who’s been screwed
Don’t rush
To catch the bus
Take some time
To carry out the trash
Your home
Is just an expression
On your face
You can hide there
Anytime you like
Just keep it clean for visitors
All your pain
Will soon be forgotten
Don’t listen to their promises
Don’t raze the earth
To find comfort
Somewhere
Deep inside your fat head
You must be certain
It hurts to hide
Taut strings stretching your head apart
In every direction
Imagine life without botox
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A harshly penned rant against the cosmetic industry with its promises and its lies. I like your style. The abrasive tone of your phrasing and the angst that seems to underpin the poem. Great work. Love, Allie ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥