Cadence the Clown
Runs rampant in town
With blood-colored crayoned eye
Manhattan he prowls,
With a knife and a scowl
And laughs at us as we cry
He hides in the park
Just a wee after dark
Behind the big birch tree
Then hones in his prey,
Just a skip from the bay
And attacks on the count of three
A bag full of tricks
A handful of sticks
He takes with him night upon night
With sweat on his back
The dead bodies he’s stacked
And laughs as we cringe with fright
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem