Sorrowful hearts remind me of
Painful loss
People mourning with me at
Deprivation so gross
The boss
A willing tyrant
Has a penchant
For blood
At a solemn toss
Of the coin of fate
Head or tail
Will bring forth its own tale
And the candy floss
Is soon replaced with grate
Because my mother is late
And her spouse as well
Is the late.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem