Met Mr Two Faced
his friends disappeared
whittled on in haste
thought it rather weird
him and me were good friends
now i have me doubts
whether tried to make amends
still trying to figure outs
hangs around some dingbats
though never heard him speak
those blokes wear spats
and drop occasional squeak
personally there obnoxious
stab you behind your back
also they are noxious
so keep walking up my track
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem