Roof's Topsy turvy, always loose...
Rearranged by tornado's, blowing, use.
Cows flying by, as high and why? ...
Death and crushed bones, bruised be an eye.
Twister's fate to man, does bring pain...
Removing from man, his feeling of being sane.
Destructive as this form, of Nature, as it does....
Expensive in the monies, bad news, is all the buzz.
It seems that man needs to learn, to, for himself, to defend...
For it must be man's choice, to astray, from his knowledge, of God's tribute, paid, that man, to God did, ignore, and offend.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem