Thank heaven's for that virus...
For people would have sweet little Fanny Adams to write about.
No writer's block with that menace at large.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
It's coming for you old woman. Your lungs will be expunged and heart weak. At its peak you will squeak take me My Devil.
How's your prostate cancer doing Robbie boy?