It was better than any stupid gerbil
yes, it-sounds-pretty cruel I now admit
I didn't feed it, and I never once cleaned it
I had it 2yrs on the bedroom window sill.
But it did pretty well, and it was special
I prized it from the moment I found it
and hoped it had taken in a bit of grit
I knew it would survive—it was primaeval.
I'd watch it for hours at night one-footing round
a plastic, oblong tank beneath the moonlight.
I collected earth and blanket weed poolside
everything was fine in its little compound.
But that said, one day, I returned home from school
and this silly fool threw it out to get at me
'there'll be no more of that; it is my rule
being my stepfather, he set his decree
there are no more prized possessions here for me.'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
everyone of us can justify our relationship with another human..No one is wrong: not only the stepfather, but also the stepson..everyone has a reason or two to justify their claims.. Mark, You have shot from different angle..Thank you so much..