There is no ease that comes,
With a tongue perceived as tart.
When pushed to the wall...
That may be all the action,
One decides that is left!
Some folks are just not happy,
Until they are hushed...
Nearly with stopped breath.
And there is really no satisfaction,
Being the one
To tell another...
Where to go!
When,
And what to kiss!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem