Late one eve
whilst conversation runs loose
of a weave, thanks to family food and booze.
over left-over food, and near to napping
I sat slurrily chatting,
to my cousin, Pepsi.
then due to boozy bevvies
i decide to ask
'under what such circumstance,
would encourage parents to call a child pepsi? '
'go figure' she snarls half pissed herself,
'its not the corporate money making filthy drink that
bothers me, its the fact that its the cheaper alternative! '
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Simple and sweet, well written