Crazy boy, Crazy girl
We are combo made in hell
Trouble is all you smell
When we step into the room
We kill gloom, with doom*
Our love is destined for full bloom
I'm the bride, he is the groom
Object now if you disagree or sweep your thoughts forever under the carpet with a broom
For me and him will always be together under the sun or moon
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem