You leave me....gifts,
that come in such...unique,
forms,
your the sweetest little thing i know,
and you love to be kissed,
you love to play,
but the gifts you leave,
in my language,
may say,
that you find distaste,
in the things that i do,
oh doggy of mine,
stop leaving me poo.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem