So the story begins..
Once upon a time...
On a fine summers day...
This friend of mine...
Couldn't finish a story
Or even a sentence
It ought be crime.
He could write great novel,
Or an epic stage play
Sell snow to Eskimo
Or convince a savage beast to give way.
But this affliction of his
Caused eased distraction
'Sit down', 'carry on' people would say.
But so wrought was he
Of this goldfish mentality
So focused on dis-focus
And distaste for folks banality
That often times,
He wouldn't finish a sentence
And lose all sense of....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem