The winds of August,
The dust of disgust
Dry lips in sand caked unjust!
This is summer for you; a must!
Ask a question
Once too often
I shall breeze away to shun!
Hate this boiling to toughen!
I prefer to smile and walk away!
For the heat and dust
Sweat and threat
Hot winds in successive gust!
Lifting frills; extra treat!
To the observant eye
Makes me dejected sigh!
For the bones they protest Why!
Oh Why! must I even try!
Leave me to my rest;
Pulling legs is not any fun
When it my patience does test!
Making me look for a gun! ! !
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~malinikadir
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem