I may be broken, warped or dented
I may no longer be pleasantly scented,
And I might be a bit rusted away
But, that's all ok.
I might not be brand new
I might have been used a time or two,
And of course I might be tarnished
No longer young and garnished.
I might no longer be polished and elegant
I might now be slow and less intelligent,
Maybe no longer am I spotless
To that fact, I confess.
I may no longer have my sheen
I may no longer have the glean,
But, from all truths and the foolish prattle
I never heard of a clean sword winning a battle.
Randy L. McClave
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem