Hanging out with the girls next door,
Oh, what troubles we found galore. When
Warnings were ignored.And as we got bored,
drinking was explored. Listening to wrong,
it never dawned. We'd make the boys sore.
Wings got tore. Booze was continually in
store. Till games ended in one on the floor.
When poured in large sum. While finding
others had none. Stripped down to the pore.
Friendships were no more. Seeking solace
and comfort, for sores. Tried other shores.
Violence and life were bore. Though life
may already been cold. A beating, maybe
for told. Unsure, how it came to unfold.
But, death was all that was left, to hold.
The rest of my life, I've implored.To our
Lord, my sins to remove, From the core.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem