Something in need,
To be needled to mend...
Tattered patches to fabric.
Requires someone to comprehend,
A treading that attaches...
Loose ends,
Can be accomplished...
Once the priority,
Becomes the fabric.
And not who picks,
Which color of thread...
Will be best displayed,
On a quilt frayed...
Already tattered with patches.
Awaiting for those unattached,
While the patcher...
Seeking thread to mend patches,
To a quilt fraying.
But instead,
Sits to get needled by a prick!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem