We always make crisis out of a drama
We’ve a tendency to tilt to panic
At first we bury our heads in denial
Then we think and act manic
With random acts of random
Sods law applies
Mutter incoherent
Look up to the skies
We never see it coming
It catches us unaware
That nasty bite of reality
Act of fate beware
We never put our hands up
It’s all culpable disclaim
Refute all responsibility
It’s how to play the game
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Fate can deal a trying hand at times.