After the parade.........
I never let another man wearing a dress walk past me....
Continuing to breathe..
With the devil on their ruffled sleeve...
The disillusioned. Now get contusions.
To let them live would be a prive.
Enabling pride and ego to pour evil from their sieve.
Dress up is their game
now they get chains🪢
Instead of Fame.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem