There was a magician I once met
Whilst on a family journey down south,
With but a wave of his fingers
BLAST! Before I could blink.
Like a wave of water BLAST!
Before I could think.
His magic would appear just as cloud
-So suddenly
BLAST! Before I could speak aloud.
He wore a limestone around his neck
BLAST! His body covered in a smear of ink.
I heard him speak once
BLAST! I heard him speak twice.
In all his perfection BLAST!
He spoke with such distinction.
-27.02.12-
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem