Piles of trash line the halls
Some six feet tall
And still overflowing
With more garbage piled on top.
It's a never ending contamination,
A consistant spreading of filth
And absolute vile
Into what seems to be only my surroundings.
Everyone is a dumpster of sorts
With their taste and smell
Exaggerated a little to much
Making me sikened
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem