Foul fiends, who would suck your spleen
reap at your soul when your at your weakest
invent a face and you'll find a place
enemies are so easier to trust
need a hug, know one to hold you
dont announce who you really are
sometimes a comrads just a dog.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
There's something amazing in this poem, Kevin. It has at least something to do with your observation on enemies and trust. I think we tend to trust those who are inclined to do ill because, for whatever reason, they seem to sense what it is exactly that we want or need to hear. Brilliant work, Kevin.