There was a guy,
There was a girl
The guy liked her,
And stared at her curl.
Queen of beauties she was,
In this world, she had no match
Slave of sadness he was,
That no one could ever catch.
Abashed of speaking to her,
He could never take the dealing
And never had he got the courage,
To tell her what he was feeling.
Guy shifted, time passed,
But thoughts remained the same
And you never know buddy,
If someone else is playing the game.
In his desperation,
He got her number from a common friend
But the player was there,
His mind was a little bent.
And then one "Fine" day,
Recalling the past
He dialed the number,
Hoping to have a sudden blast.
That was the wrong number actually,
It was agony at its best
The guy shattered on the floor,
That's why it is called the morons test.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem