A woe man she is
Gradually a tongue she wins
Determined to overcome
And bridge the cap between
She moves with her jugular
Even when you are insulting her
Her mandate she must see to the last
Her strength though failing fast
Politics is making her fast track
Daily people keep tracking her
Just to hear if she will stammer
Our deputy is a humming hammer
Though a woman, she is a drummer
At peace as a political plumber
That fixes new pipe and damaged ones
Into their sits purely as make shifts
As a touting political woe man
Her seat is made with iron mat
A loud mouth can not displace
Her prepared speech waiting in
The fear of defeat is her receipt
The only thing that melt her wax
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Women can do anything. Often, better than men. Thanks for sharing, Enne Peace