Still waiting in the playgrounds,
To settle scores.
With tit for tat paybacks.
Within them harbored and stored.
Still standing near the swings,
Or the monkey bars with pails of sand.
Hoping for a foe to show,
To continue an aging.
And quite old argument.
As their children 'and' grandchildren,
Stagger by high.
On alcohol or weed,
Maybe both.
Who knows but the adored,
Pusher of quick solutions to solve.
Unified with the same needs,
To ensure they keep the image.
Of their unified solidarity objectively alive.
And
Without a doubt,
Kept down to Earth.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem