On the ground I found a pen.
At the store I bought,
some pencils and erasers.
Moving along by walking the streets,
I spilled ketchup all over my clothes.
My my what a mess.
Getting a small hand cloth,
I cleaned up the ketchup mess.
Sitting down at a bus stop now,
I took out my six pencils
and used a pencil sharpener,
to sharpen them.
My my what a mess.
Pencil shavings all over my clothes.
Getting tired now,
I walked away from the bus stop
and walked towards home.
My my what a day.
Who ever knew that pen I found
was full of ketchup and not ink.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem