Oh how special you think you are,
Almost as if you arrived from a distant star,
With your razor sharp suit,
And designer aftershave (not brut)
With ignorant pride
Following your every stride
How I would love to warm your arse
With my steel toe capped boot.
Sitting on the train struggling with your
Over sized newspaper,
Truth is however sooner or later,
You will be replaced,
And some other younger Face
Will ignorantly fill your space.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Yep! Great write here. I chuckled at it, but how true it all is. Well thought out, and well constructed. A nice picture produced too. Love Ernestine XXX