snow has turned to slush
a new year's
knocking on the door
I've wrapped up all my failures
and planned my resolutions
once again
setting my wishes
upon the heavy branch
of fall
so I'll hang on
to rusted customs
where I find
the sense of comfort
you never could
deliver
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I like the idea of packing all my failures and the line about hanging them on fall's branch, always good work.