In youth
so very thin
In old age
so big and fat
your skin
once so round
now so very flat
You'll catch the bus
to the whispered word
it flies across
dangerous seas
the wayward bird
changing clothes
take off old
put on new
like a withered
and dying rose
despise
decay
but decaying
comes anyway!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
So it's just me and my monkey glands that stays the same! Very enjoyable read and sadly true!