Who's next to be perplexed, vexed by this annexed trap
Intertwine within the fine line, a spine like vine you design
Accused of being amused by those bruised you confused
This trap a sort of slap to snap the sap out of this chap
Tape the mental scrape that took shape upon your escape
Don't hate your fate or become irate over whats on your plate
I would make good if I could but not sure if I should
I suppose you oppose those blows that expose what you chose
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem