You've probably heard the story of the scorpion who asked the frog
to help him cross the river by giving him a lift on the frog's back.
The frog refused but finally gave in after the scorpion promised he would not sting the frog, but he ultimately did.
I am a different frog, who trusted a clever scorpion, who wore a lab's mask. In my case the scorpion's sting did not kill me, it only wounded me, causing me to run away to safety.
And now the scorpion is back again, trying to gain my trust,
but his crocodile tears no longer face me.
I realize he can't help his heart, his rotten nature.
This little frog has learned, not everyone that cries is nice,
not every sweet word is true, not everyone has my best interest
at heart, and that will save my life.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Well said Luz. Scorpions like people are of different types. Nice use of metaphor there 10+
Thanks for reading and commenting.