Love is the corrupt game show,
tainted with superficiality.
The contestants quickly fall;
Their consolation is denial.
The final contestant’s fate
lies in a series of questions.
The questions are trivial;
The answers have time frames.
The final contestant is clutch.
He is awarded the grand prize;
One glorified relationship!
But he’s to pay a prize tax!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I just love this one. 'but he's to pay a prize tax! ' What imagery is in here.