Trashes,
Trashcans,
And gadgets
Are recyclable.
Only human thoughts are
Not;
-Actually,
They do;
It is just not the century’s need for such thought-
Once they are passed,
They bounce,
Triggered and trigger,
Spark
Fire;
The smoke looks
Like a fume,
Sometimes,
More bigger then a mushroom cloud.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem