The little old lady from Pasadena was not driving her car,
But she had inkling to go far,
Far above the traffic down below,
She was going skydiving,
Yep, She checked all her gear,
She had nothing to fear,
But her PoliGrip didn’t hold,
Under tremendous wind the grip was not tight,
Her upper plate blew out of sight.
So when you say “Bite Me”,
You’ll never what’s above you,
For maybe your wish will come true.
(3-17-2008)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem