I use to wear a shamrock on Saint Patricks day until I became his prey. The leprechaun sold all my pot of gold and left me with only a coin. Now I can't be a host and give you a toast of happiness since he drunk all my beer. He's the savage that ate all my cabbage. He was wearing all green and being so mean. He was the thief of all my four leaf clover's. The tornado that's sucking up my rainbow. He's not even Irish acting all this childish. He has played around and stole from my parade. Maybe I was gonna get lucky this holiday but then I met him and became all unlucky in Ireland. Now I'm lost on Main Street seeing magical little people isn't this just comical. I will hesitate before I ever celebrate a pinch of this tradition.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem