If you have the Devils addresses
Tell him that I have got new dresses
Made off the spreads of mattress
Same mattress I laid all years
That soaked pain sweats and tears.
Tell him I've grown in challenges
That I'm used to living in hells
So used to what negative tells
Worst is the shoes over my tantrum foots
I'm never to be hurt by the heat of hells.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem