Scurrying around in a frantic pace that is hurried,
To mend together those broken fences...
With the gluing of pieces,
Reminisced as ones that use to fit.
Well...
This may be a great opportunity,
For those who believe it is never too late...
To accomplish certain deeds,
With a hopeful removal of any bitter taste left.
But some tasks in the doing,
Put off until the last minute...
Just be more effective if left undone.
Especially if those wishing to impress have deceased.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem