Rock, paper, scissors; my heart it is fragile
My baby lives now in this world; am I agile
Enough to survive; if the papers on top
Of the scissors, or then; if the stone's offered up
To crush the shears metal, can I stay alive?
It's scary how delicate things are alive;
Rock; my heart sinks like the stone in the well;
If she dash her foot, then just take me to hell-
Paper; a cut to the heart is such pain;
Would I want to bring her to life here again-
Scissors; never cut her soul loose from mine
What words on mere paper could ever define?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem