merging traffic to a bridge
is standing behind a pipe
that is continuously belching
i wonder what will i get; future
my lungs could turn black
or coated with slimy goo
is it lack of roads for us
or we go home same time
there are impatient people
around us who jump in front
which add more stress
on our thinning lungs lining
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem