A letter intended for someone, received,
The post man clouded with confused doubts,
As the letter was registered, a sign needed,
When the cloaked person's same old pen signed,
The post man smiled at his pretentious friend,
Whom he knew for many months, the elf,
Changed into a seraph, fully made up,
when The sleeve was pulled up, wrinkles seen,
The same old name carried same old IC number,
He scratched his head with unbelief,
Why a person must put make up as old and young,
Even at his own home, either he wanted to impress,
Himself or fool the visitors who are unaware.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A write that needs thinking deeply.