A wear is all of you, like me,
But when do you just wear;
The answer brings a morning ski
In snow, in too much stare.
It is the morning when we wear,
Like weddings, funerals;
To ask a man to clear is mere
Stupidity, just lulls.
I clear the weather first then pray
In one demanding joke,
But why do see just anyway
In front of who awoke?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem