I just wrote a book,
Wrote a novel,
Wrote a song,
Took a picture,
Of you,
The book chapter one,
The beginning,
The end,
At the start,
Volume two.
The middle bit,
Censored, now empty,
A story of love,
And of lust,
The critic’s critique,
Never ending,
Another one,
Just bit the dust.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem