For the visionary, no vision
No blood for the pharmacy technician
Elections end with no real decision
And in winter no love, no kissin
Here is mud.
Cows lazily chewing cud
While roses wait to leave their bud-
So I shall forsake rhyme
Time's crime going too fast
Or perhaps we are all just very quick ourselves
Birthday balloon stuck in that tree since December
Winter will be over soon
Remember
How summer is the season to surrender
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem