Standing here alone, feeling overwhelmingly amiss,
Looking to break free from the clutch of this abyss.
Is it the Acheron, no you say it's got to be the styx!
Neither really, just a bunch of inbred hicks.
But what am I? Just another rube,
Living a life so lame-brained and crude.
Taught by a father who acts as an oaf,
Raised by a mother ranked to a dolt.
I have a destiny, and yes it's sincere
To be free from the cultivation and mores set here.
Enlighten the world that I'm truly a scholar,
But hope they never hear the hillbilly me holler.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Hmmm, there is depth here that belies your age. Follow the dreams.