'That Card' has now left the shelf.
The red roses have died, and now lie
under a thousand tons of waste.
But my sentiment, lives on...
I hope you know that?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The aftermath is that giant landfill site. Then again as a good recycler, it should be washed, ironed and then folded to re-emerge as a cornflake packet.