Trying to clean up a mess.
One has left.
While moving closer to exit,
Through a revolving door.
Replacing another,
That had a lock on it before.
Will leave not too many to forget,
The mess left and to have been created.
Or the name of the one,
Doing their best...
To leave a good impression made.
In spite of the stench,
Introduced to the people to convince...
Time to give will for them be of benefit.
And the odor they today may find,
Will not linger to remain...
For decades.
Keeping future generations reminded.
That a decision to replace a locked door,
With one that revolves.
Had been,
One of the most incompetent decisions...
Allowed to have ever been made.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem