Sent his words packing,
Yet they left without any heat,
Surely not elite
At least he isn't selling harm,
Though he is selling himself short and being spread too thin,
Completely lacking in natural force
Tries to make the sentences sweet,
But the brief moments of bliss are interrupted,
Replaced by his true nature
So the paragraphs drag on, and he doesn't know why...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem