Here she comes. the big fat lump,
Her clothes come off and then she'll thump,
Her backside on my protesting frame,
I'm straining now. It's such a shame.
I'm not that old, I'm only two,
But such a lot I have been through.
She'll toss and turn and she's not light.
I groan and creak all through the night.
I feel relief, when come the dawn,
She's up and puts her clothes back on.
She'll fix my sheets and put me right,
All ready for another night.
By the way, this about my bed,
Is purely fictional, from my head.
There's not a word of it is true.
(I hope that this is fooling you) .
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem