No more sad scenes
That blow my mind
To deprive my mind of maneuver means
That prevents my plans from lagging behind and making me unkind.
No more bad breaks
That mount me up the creek
To turn my plans into woe-ridden wrecks
That prick my pride quick, sick and weak.
No more egregious excuses
That suggest seamy streams
When my they blow my frail fuses
To rob reason of rights in reams.
No more tough times
That my horizons hurt
To demolish and devastate my climbs
Up the social mobility ladder minus the security of a sassy skirt.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem