It was weak and rust,
And I thought it trust..
It was just, (may be)
An emotional outburst,
Or an unconditional thrust-
More of a necessity and less of lust! ! !
It came as a gust,
And turned us to dust,
We needed to adjust,
But we fussed and cussed;
And now are left in disgust! ! ! !
Where memories incrust our distrust,
We indulge in fust,
And then are non-plussed! ! !
What we could have entrust,
The lies-made it encrust;
The feelings-were just in the crust,
But self pride-a must! ! ! !
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem