Oh! What load I have
To carry the entire day
In nights the load doubles
With two people on my lap
I am too lazy to stand up and
Lies my entire life
On barren floor, sometimes
With heaps of clothes all over me
The little child likes to jump on me
All day long making me feel
I would break and fall,
My four legs are becoming weak now
I had long life though
You must be wondering who I am
I am none other than a poor old bed!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I never thought from a bed's perspective, this is adorable. I truly enjoyed this poem. Thank you, Athul. -Cathy