Her rhythms match
She is stuck holding the pen
Writing lines and erasing them
Like a whirlwind her words
Take Mr high to world unknown
I can't marry a poetess
She may write about me
But, I will never interpret
She may force me
To play the guitar
As she recites the lines
I don't want to
Listen her tantrums
I don't want to marry a poetess
She may want me
To play the guitar
And make the drums cry
And she may want to
Hear her lines rhyming
I don't want to.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem