The tucked in apples were cut and cast.
The focused apples were cut and cast.
The craved apples were thrown as waste.
The coveted apples were thrown as waste.
The boys were sorry more than the gardener.
The boys were sore more than the gardener.
Before their decay, they have been thrown out.
Before their term, they have been cast away.
Breasts are the assets for any woman.
They serve as two way traffic of passion.
Without them stays not femininity.
To forgo them is an act of bravery.
They have been cut off by a surgery.
She has done it, before their expiry,
To cut the risk of cancer, a bold act.
Her grace is not lost but high in the mast.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem