I see worry acting as an usher
Clearing the way for you to flee
I see middle aged men with their better handle on self-confidence
Attempting to jump on whatever type of introduction they've made with you
Don't tell me I'm silly, too free
I will only know the pyrrhic joy of this once
Both before and after, your pursuers are dogged
Steadfast in their selfish clamoring to bring you down
Each with his own set of provoking impulses
Such as insecurity, lust, selfishness
Such is a sociopath who hunts with cold-blooded determination
Grim is their onslaught despite the bug spray of charm
The bug spray of charm being wielded by vermin
You'll know better once you get moving, get out of here
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem