No-one cares about me now,
Not even the other chairs.
My legs creak, my back groans,
And one of my arms is gone.
My skin is ripped, my flesh exposed,
The bounce all gone from me.
No-one cares for this old, old chair,
And yet I'll soon be gone.
As gone as the rubish around me,
And as gone as my missing arm.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
it is the same with people, when they get too old, they become useless.........