(a sorry verse)
A whip of tongue
It cast a stone
So short of tact
It hit someone
It was too late
To draw it back
Impulse than temper
Is twice as fast
The rude outdid
The sorry mild
Now I dissolve
In my demise
In my remorse
I act contrite
And I resolve
To pay the price
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem