Pardon me for a moment while I write this little poem
I know that you are tired and don’t want to be alone
The urge has just now struck me to put these words to rhyme
Hush your crying and I’ll be with you in just a little time
It’s not often that I’m able to write what’s in my head
Now stop your blasted crying or I’ll put your butt to bed
You’re the apple of your father’s eye
The thing that makes him smile
So why the hell don’t he come home
And take you for a while
See what you’ve done now I’ve lost my concentration
To be rid of you at times like these would be a good sensation
At times like this, I realize I’m not a patient mother
But what a blessing it would be if you were like your brother
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem