I burnt my hand on the stove.
And say Hi to Blue Wolf Bosh
A clunk came from above
I'm at Carleton, where they call me a frosh.
Loving you is a curse, but hating you is even worse
He tried to get out when I tried to get in
Or a wacky jabber in discourse;
Safe it is, when you keep it within
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem