Poets bang drums loudly, to awaken
Those who slumber these dark nights
Fruit can’t be eaten, lest tree is shaken
So they shove, pull and promote fights
Poets challenge, cajole and aggravate
Those saying “I don’t wanna know it”
Alas;
No one listens to a poet ‘til it’s too late
They have some nasty scars to prove it
ROTMS
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem