The timber you cut down this morn
to avoid the cold with its burn
will burn you.
The tumbler of which you drank
will drink you.
The smoke you filled in your lung
will leave you hung.
The life you're living
will kill you.
Sucker! ! - - - - - - - -you have not sucked anyone in sucker! ! !
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A refined poetic imagination, Sushobhan. You may like to read my poem, Love And Iust. Thank you.