Wrong way round it stands a joke
Front part missing along with spoke
It's been dead so long, though now it's real
There's no chance for it without a wheel
It was just a puncture and easy to fix
Now its uses are none, with rubble it'll mix
I wonder if it knows its future that's in store
No more flying to the shop, no more, no more.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem