The 'Happy' Porn Star.
Grew up in poverty,
on a farm.
With too many brothers and cousins.
She loved them all.
Except the pigs.
She had no use for a cork screw.
Most of the house looked like there's.
Not her room,
full of lace and silk, they learned.
She burned and burned wanting more.
She had her own pony.
Nice little pony and friends.
By the time she was full and grown.
Any thing of value she owned.
Old gold and silver over there in a box
laid confederate money, yellow with age.
She packed it all up,
while the pony and she rode away.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem