They look so different from others
Something about them reminds one of the gutters
May be the shapes of their eyes or their colours
Or fear of the unexpected beneath that façade and its horrors
They walk well, indeed like royalty thus
Slowly sauntering, following a course
Like a movement well-programmed for a cause
What a waste of life; what a loss
We do not know them and I doubt we ever will
They are not like us; they are, as to the earth, a frill
Asinine and then very much surreal
You wouldn't engage them for a thousand dollar bill
A word for the unfortunate persons who think they are in love
Don't flirt with them; they're not like amongst hawks, doves
If you can get over them, certainly you can look above
And count them amongst the problems you can solve
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem