A single key in a little bunch
The key to life it is not
So little a key but have this punch
When uncle’s blood is hot.
Some men I know can lend this key
But some are worse to stand
A friend it is that lets me be
But uncle’s spite must land
This key to Golf I turned upwards
And got rains of hot words
My uncle raved and ranted as hell
In words thoughtful as they tell
This his point was stressed again
As the old year passed with glee
My resolution strong and comes like train
To avoid uncle’s car key
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem