Rough edges rotten from decay
Events of things just wasting away
Shameless Proof of man's waste
Storms and no time to hesitate
Underneath was something once loved
Right or wrong we just see the above
Remodeling isn't a option anymore
Even if the object was once adored
Today we just see it as a eye sore
Inside could still be good at it's core
Only if we had time to save it from its decay
Nothing in life would have time to waste away
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem