Got my money, all in cash.
Got my whiskey, in a flask.
Strap my shoes on, hit the road.
Nothing left, time to go.
Strangers driving, up the highway.
Leaving you, I did it my way.
Dropped the bullshit, guns ablaze.
In a whirlwind, myself I amazed.
Took the time, to make it work.
You didn't want this, neither did Turk.
Left in the rain, sitting there crying
Texting your lies, the truth your denying.
I couldn't have asked, for a more fitting fate.
Then wasting the food, left on my plate.
Cut to the bone, with words so sharp.
You've lied your last, 'Diem a la Carpe'.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem