I need Gas, fill me up.
The man at the gas station looked at me perplexed.
I said don't be confused, the lid is open pump it in,
Make sure its deejal, every one has a need, I am not the only one who's been.
He took the hose, pushed it into my steel hole,
The elixir flowed, meter gauge swelled,
Felt like the teen age long left me desolate,
When my anatomy for no rhyme or reason popped turgid amazed.
Then fuel made me feel uncomfortable, almost guilty, like the indicator,
Telling me hey you blew it blimey.
Today when the turgid being swells,
I feel what an idiot I had been,
Trapped in plastic,
Wanting to be a conformist,
Despite my youth long lost urging me to be an experimentalist.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem