It went something like...
his kicks were clean,
his hair was slick,
he had his dream,
he had his chick.
She was always there,
she never let him down,
the way they moved,
as if love had a sound.
Best friends just don't call it quits,
he doesn't want you to leave,
what would he be left with,
when he spent years on something he believed?
A couple of friends,
oppression,
nothing to spend his time on,
but manic depression.
Either way you look at it,
you're both going to lose,
just don't go forcing something,
make sure you know what you're about to choose.
So go do what you like,
make sure you do it wise,
you may find out that your self doubt,
may not be that easy to compromise.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem