This boy was short
His feet perhaps;
Did not well reach
Hence the co-ordination lapse
He was on his way to a birth day party
Perhaps little knowing it would
This way end so red; all bloody!
Wish there was something do; I could
But; me a mere poet
Just words they in my control
I tell my racing heart to quiet
It is the traffic's hurried toll
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++malinikadir
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem