I tried to eat with my sore tooth
I tried to walk with my broken foot
I chose to ignore the writings of the book
I tried to live without my roots
The pull on my eyes hid the hook
Destruction in the cloak of good
The needed trap was just a look
And the prey waits for a good food
Maybe I was a great fool
Maybe it was the prey’s superior tool
I was waiting for the charging of a bull
But my failure lies in a well concealed look
Hard as I try, I still live by the book
The prey got the boot
Love got him underfoot
I learnt to see beyond the looks
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This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem