Feed my apogee!
Neglect my minstrelsy.
Voice your discontent.
No harm is meant.
Submit, proclaim.
Life has no aim.
I might as well abstain.
Than be met with disdain.
Parade your wares.
Be caught unawares.
Singe your throat.
Death does gloat.
He was run over.
Young life over.
Eliminations rampant.
So vulgar, so candent.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem