I constantly sit on the boring sink
My mind is on a detrimental brink
Why must I be a sponge?
Living this life is anything but fun
All I do is work so hard
To apply a strong stain guard
I receive no respect
And my skin is starting to get wrecked
Please don't throw me away
I promise I can still clean all day
Yes, I am getting old
And I believe my surface is beginning to mold
So this is where we say our goodbyes
Maybe I can clean just one last time
However I'm far too old
And it seems you're sold
I see the new sponge now
I'll just leave somehow
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
this guy is an absolute genious