sleeves of blood.interested in only fourty weight, the fifty nill, did spill, blood.all is good, every neighborhood has a wooden fence with roses yet to bloom growing across.will the wind whip nill stalls? will the horses call, say amen? will the fidgeting ever stop? the best deal i ever got was to watch a booty drop.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem