This isn't a poem but one lagging nine
I've met so many tempting berries online
Taste maybe sweet with attitude not ugly but fine.
Constant desires and admirations redefine
I've never seen nor tasted the tenth wine
Yet every moment comes another none decline.
Nothing can be quantified in moments recombine
Every seconds we chat we turn into mine...
A companion, in details trustfully we confine.
Every salt that made the water saline
We spotted on each others bony spine
Whatever it is; out the pipe, it flows like urine.
I've met so many pretty faces online
It pains me meeting another red wine
I will never drink of or meet in time.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem