Youth man,
Youth man,
Stop Crying,
Keep laughing,
In all stages of goodness,
This is my story,
Before my own demise,
I must admit,
That the real man is all ever balling,
The Boss Player,
Ain’t this the King that never surrenders?
He was created,
All wilding into the ways of Him,
This is the life that we chose,
I will never leave this man,
Seeing that he straightened I to the Right Direction,
All odds are fading,
The star is the making of a Don.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem