Begin, begin, the morning with the bacon readied toast...
Slug down that scalding cup of coffee, that you like the most.
Having fried eggs, over easy...
Greasy, always greasy.
Each morning I read the morning paper...
Never, to finish, but much later.
Hash browns mixed with onions and green peppers...
This morning treat, makes you motioned, in fast paced, in steppers.
Fast and more direct, towards bathroom we head...
Before, we shed, and, then, our life does enter the land of the dead.
We don't want to be sick...
We'd rather be chic.
To be known for our stylish walk...
To be judged as having a genius's talk.
Onto work, do we get rushed...
Into traffic, are we crushed?
Packed onto roadways, are we surrounded by cars...
Like in the night skies, many, amassing stars.
Like many ants, funneling into lines...
Are we trapped, surrounded on all sides.
The rat race...
What a disgrace.
Let's all, just, get up, and get away.....
So, that we all, have a much happier day.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Now you've gone and made me hungry! I hope I get a chunk of cheeze at the end of this rat race, at least! -chuck