I got the rag
I saw it coming
Washable but still a rag
People admired it
Lose of a rag was a pain to me
I found out it was gold
Displayed in the kings castle
My rag is somewhere
They studied about its dirt
It was thrown into the last bin
I found my rag desperate
Changed and destroyed
Never became the same
Power to clean was gone
Never saw the need for washing it
For this earth hates beauty
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem