Anger, done up its laces
and kicked out with iron boots.
Hate, sat on the fence,
scheming its next cunning move.
Love, folded its arms,
watched from a safe distance.
Lethargy, shrugged its shoulders...
who cares anyway?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nice one. Enjoyed the idea of anger's iron boots