It sits beside a rusted nut
It yets to feel the breeze
It never grows or give leaves hope
It feels as if it's not even there
As if there is no breeze
But as the years go by and by
It still yet survives
Because everything has a heart
That strives and strives
Once you thought of a shallow tree
The shallow tree is me
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem