Her soft hands, carved me in proper shape,
handling-caring, then parked in board cage,
Her soft hands, uncovered me in elation,
clapping-blowing, ripped me into pieces,
A piece was then, smashed to a pretty face,
wondering, were all hands of same or others,
gripping-dripping, fell into a garbage bin
and, I got Flavour of Everything......
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem