You were born wrong time, wrong place
Your mom was a hooker, and dad a pimp
All you heard from them was: Bag your face!
The kids picked on you for having a limp
Oneday you came home falling-down drunk
Your folks hit you so hard that you saw stars
You were grounded, and in a blue funk
Shattered the collection of your race cars
Then you skipped school, but nobody cared
A tough guy gave you to try trip weed
When you with skid row bums some food shared
You already knew you would be a dead-end kid
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem