His sight provokes grumpiness
debries are thrown at him in lumpiness
he grows grevious
and the passersby sees but someone mischievious
abandoned by those that bore him
couldn't be more anti-climax in a film
he carries the earth on his back
and even with the sun remains in the dark
he works at the bin
the innocent waste he grabs with keen
here is a living corpse
and who says even in death wouldn't be entangled in the cobs
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem