Is in decking out
And having poverty
Not recognise me.
Is in being waved on
By the same traffic officer
The nightmare of my jalopy.
Is in being best student
And having nay-saying teacher
Call me out.
Is in buying snazzy lunch
For the madam with credo:
Starvation is food for maid.
Is in having yesterday’s boss
Fill the visitor’s form
And behold me behind the desk.
Vengeance, my brother
Is not in the enemy’s funeral
It’s in my coronation.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem