Tom had saved a long time.
So that when he died, he would have a nice funeral.
But his wife didn't give a crap.
About giving him a nice funeral.
She took his body and wrapped an old blanket around it.
And then she buried his body in the field where the cows eat.
She thought that the burial money could be put to better use.
Jamaica was sure nice this time of year.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem