A man called Fred,
sat in bed,
then he got up,
went to get a cup,
but then he tripped,
onto a script,
witch had a good storyline,
except the bit about the landmine,
so he went to a book writer,
who seemed like a biter,
the writer then made it a book
then he said to Fred 'have a look! ',
then Fred got a phone call,
from a man called Paul,
he wanted to make the book a movie,
he said he was going to make it groovy,
Fred accepted the deal,
Fred couldn't beleive this was real,
then he found out that that it was not,
then he woke up in a cot,
then Fred got hit in the head,
Now Fred is dead.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem