That rude lad in the streets,
The one with dirt all over his feet,
That boy that couldn't greet,
All his elders that he meets,
That short round boy,
Who doesn't care what the world say,
That black sad boy, couldn't know what to say,
Am that short round black sad boy,
Who sneaks when your not looking,
The one who steals your children's toys,
And said it wasn't him that took it,
The lad that always disturbs peace,
For he too had not felt peace,
His parent are the only people he missed,
So he finds peace when he destroys peace,
For justice has not been done to those he missed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem