Bread Poem by Ralph Stephen Dolog
Bread
We ought to eat our daily bread
To have some stock inside our head
But there are men who does not eat
They got starve until they're dead.
Oh bread, Oh bread on which we feed
To take you home I'll do a deed
A work, a chore, a job or more
To buy you in a shop or store.
Don't take this poem too seriously
Because it will end humorously
Actually I'm not a breadwinner,
In our house I am the bread-eater.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/27/2024 4:46:17 PM # 1.0.0.1119
