horse grass overgrown
green carpet hugging
length of field on cold
morning, I step on them
I cross to next building
those will dry and rot
without feeding any mouth
many wasted on this earth
without us knowing, busy
when somebody tries to
to do something about it
we protest with all reasons
I see many minds wasted
sitting in corners with cp
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Yeah, you are right. We waste so much in life without knowing its worth.