Yes, bro...
my poems now speak
not with tongue in cheek.
they may shout with their lungs out
maybe unlike before now up the spout.
Yes, bro.....
my poems have put off downy wear
to fix things up bizarrely sheer.
they have slipped out from a geometry box
taking off the garb of a faddy fox.
Yes, bro....
my poems now strain their voice box
and come out not giving a single toss.
I`ll speak more in my poems
than I used to write in my talks.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem