Laying in the grass next to her
getting whupped by her tail.
Even the fays flee the sheen
heat oven to speak out loud.
Onlooking crowd crawling in
hyenas laugh skin does crawl.
Bawling of cafe knows not fate
I roar getting whupped by her tails
pleasure of death her eye watching.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Liking this one...excellent write and hyenas do make your skin crawl...10++