I was watching the manatees
Swimming along the mangroves
When I noticed a praying mantis
Wishing upon a starfish
It reminded me of the mandolin
Hanging above my mantle
In my mansion
I couldn't play it very well
I could barely manage
There was a tricky maneuver
That I would always mangle
So I would eat mandarins and mangoes
Until I had a sore mandible
Which mandated the manipulation of a new manner
It seemed like I WAS MANIC! ! !
Would there be a cure?
Maybe I needed a manicure
Then I could read the manual
And the manifest
It will be my new mantra
Maybe
This is all manure
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem