Like a thorn in your side
when least expected.
Living around those that are
dead but can't see it.
Love is but hate backwards,
yet the sight of it you would censor.
Unable to stand the heat in the kitchen
serving your man T.V. dinner's.
Undeserving are the blind whom claim
they can see but are blind.
The dead are undressed, you will be.
Claiming modesty, are you not the
worst of them all?
Like the Republicans whom molested a child
then pass those back, password law's.
Those whom scream the loudest are the
most guilty of all.
If where there's no smoke there is a large fire!
Hide my third eye and cover my face the stench
that's around me, the smell is bad fish.
Shaking her fist high in the air, if I'm unable
to do it, no one else should.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem