I'm not out to deceive,
But will you believe,
Sight unseen,
I've a million
In my front pockets.
You don't have a reason?
I'm not gentry,
I'm not young,
I'm only one
Of several sons.
I've not got designers on.
Oh, you've heard of me,
But we've not crossed paths.
Would you buy insurance
From me:
I'm a stranger.
Could you believe
In my innocence
Of most crimes.
Why not?
So many do,
And shouldn't I
Believe in you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I enjoyed this poem. Thanks for sharing, Francie.