In the kitchen, being a houseboy, trying to finish before dad comes home,
Then in the corners of my eyes I spotted an adventure through my front windows,
Young female residents that lived right across the road,
Outside was nice and sunny so they were in lesser and tighter clothes.
Scary, I didn't even know their ages,
Clearly, I couldn't even see their faces,
Sadly, all I saw was breasts, thighs and Big Macs in rear cages,
Suddenly, it came to mind, Ronaldinho needs to wear braces.
Wow, looked what catapulted from my chore of washing dishes,
To the value of females across the road hehm! World, I was issuing disses.
I was so eager to strip the covers off the chocolates like a group of Swisses,
So whenever I think of Aunt Aretha my skin feels a troop of swishes.
Men are pigs! Men are dogs! I'm trying to dis-improve the longevity of that stereotype,
But my psyche is grey for it's struggling in the Oreo Fight,
Because as a technology enthusiast on my screens I don't see things right,
Still, I need to be different, so deep inside, I'm a nightingale and my heart sings flight.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wow, the self loathing and internal degradation is paramount. If you don't find the source of the trauma that drives you to identity suffocation, this will echo your entire life. Listen to wisdom: you become what you hate. It's a universal truth. May I suggest James Baldwin & H.D. Thoreau, with the utmost sincerity. Trying to be good, is a self identification that you are really evil. Do you really believe that?