My dad worked in a slaughter house
Stale blood on his boots smelled for miles
I thought what a cruel job he had
He was chief eyeball exploder.
For hours I used to watch over him
I sat staring at his eyes,
In case they exploded,
While he slept.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Great poem. Written well with vivid imagery. Nice sentiments. Keep it up. I rated it 10. Thanks for sharing..... Kindly read and rate my poem 'A humble complaint' on page 2. Akmal