My name begins and ends at the sea when it rise
Oh no are they the ones hustlin E to the wise
I guess it's the wisdom that sighs
Because from the loss of it's holder
There's no longer a mystery of who dies
Correction, the heritage resides endlessly
Equally terrorizes jokers rather than defendin me
But in the middle another sense hypocritically lingers
Ever young so I guess an author's never right as my fingers
So as long as it's my style that amazes me
I'll be the CAT Corey then condense the A Threet
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem