What a day of clean deception
what a time we know how cornflakes became bravo of prime injustice
For when these crookes become naked with time the true deception of beauty goes to irony
This tale are real but the deception it entails
These are fear of lustiful lovelords, the gaint behind her beauty and the deceptive Deliah in her handbag.
All but a plain deceit she wage my time with trucks of sin, just to make the real fable close to end.
I have this dog fun of bone she can knock down a six or seven, that is why I only have her once.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem