Every single holiday or birthday
From my Grandma we get pots and pans and more containers
It never fails as if it's in her head that they're disposable
Yet they fill our cabinet even more every year
This would not be such a bad thing, but stack they do not
So they take up more space
My aunt has resorted to selling them on the internet
Because she needs the space
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem