There's no perfect relationship
everything has its own inflation rate
the commotion it create
constitutes an ambiance of hate
the troublesome state
than one need to replete
shouting at each other
without minding the people there
resorting to end it up
talking blah! blah! blah!
includes the ridicule tucked underneath
Why they can't fix it instantly?
reminiscing all the issues advertently
reconciliation should prevail
thus, the atmosphere is happy and gay...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem