Aqua Marine, on a trampoline
One big box, chasing a quick brown fox
My left shoe, riding a ski-doo
The sun, with it's hair in a bun
A jumbo jet, kept as a house pet
The sky, set with a dye
Don't do drugs
Or you may end up worshiping bugs
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem