They lie stagnant day by day, year by year as time goes idly by.
Their days of glory has ended but not totally forgotten.
All colors, makes, models, years are placed in their final resting place,
like the dead in a secluded cometary.
Bushes and shrubs have overgrown them from view.
Broken headlights, busted tire and extreme deterioration;
have become the end result of some or yet most of these once greatly
esteemed automobiles.
people come every so often to salvage what little is left of them,
or to reminisce about the glamour of their productive years,
yet....at the end of the day, they are alone once again, still remaining in the
shadows of their past
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem