The placid silence of their company shared.
Lovely trip upon their faults compared.
He did this, She did that,
bashing each other with the verbal bat.
Spiteful shame lain upon their crowns,
such a decadent hat.
Surely both feel the same,
wondering maybe the sums equally sour.
Hope still burns on the candle,
into this darkest hour.
Through help and guidance he'll come out shining,
more brightly than he's ever shone.
The question remaining shall it be cubed,
squared, or divided left to his tortured cell.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem