It followed me and seemed to know my route
Swaying here and then, and side to side
Waiting for me to run for cover
Knowing that its sting could hurt my pride
The wasp wore black and yellow like a gown
Flying round in circles upside down
Topsy Turvy flying without skill
Hoping that its stick could make me ill
Evil monsters buzzing near my ear
Preying on my hate and inner fear
Until I took a paper from a racks
And stopped this bloody pest in its tracks
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem