in the heat of the night
you got drunk and lonely
right there and then
you saw 'Mr.Right'
pushed and pulled
like well oiled machines
next morning you woke up with anxiety
'Mr.Right' had left but he planted a seed
all alone without a choice....lets just say
the child never got the chance to become a tree
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem