She was with her son for some time.
She left, as she was piqued.
She was with her daughter for some time.
She left, as she was irked.
She shifted to and from.
Now she lives alone, abandoned.
The old should murder their ego,
And avoid nettling inmates,
To stop heading for their peril.
15.07.2001, Pkd
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem