I can't bare the thought of his discussions
Wondering when he mentions me
Should hope be a thing with feathers-
If you're vegan, set it free.
My thoughts then fade to fury
Knowing I've been right-brained
His captivating creativity
Is eloquently trained.
So, write the chapter on my brows
With his homicidal hush
The fact of the matter has arrived-
I think of him too much.
Though when I read his ranting
His breath is all I crave
Let not my worries discourage him
'We got this' to the grave.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem