Orange Blossom Honey
Ain’t got no money
In the lower forty per cent,
But them that do
Can still charge you
A pant load more
For rent.
Higher this
Higher that
A small fortune
I pay
For this crappy flat.
When it will stop
Nobody knows,
The fat lady sings
You grab the ring
Hang on
And
Go with the flow.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem