Everything is old and rusting for me,
at this time of need,
the clocks have seamed to go backward,
falling apart at the seams,
worn out with in a need of repair,
wise but uncertain,
not destitute yet,
but I feel so close to the edge,
to fall off the cliff that they have made for me,
why in such time of hardship should I be in need,
work hard, well and honestly,
broken back, hands out, on bended knee,
why, oh why me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem