Obese facts like the trails,
Paths of destruction are limited;
May fortune be warrior,
Obesity is a risk of the war.
Mighty malefactors migrate
And position themselves for later.
Open their wounds and commit knife
On their entrails and burns on their skin.
Most of the war was fought by arabs
In a small desert, compact and ready
For the realities against us.
War is a fat chance, my withdrawal
And solution, far greater than any other.
Fortunate soldiers are welcome,
Open their wounds and extract.
For bullets spell disaster and catastrophes,
Much like obesity and the skin.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem