Generations of Youth wringing loathsome labor
Corrupted by increments
The cold ticking breath of Conformities clock
A hardened Anguish grows benumbed
Bends the canvas torpid grey
Leaves the masses of mediocrity jaded lukewarm
Grieving the Ripening chrysalis of A wakening dream
Only threadbare souls live outside the lines
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Only threadbare souls live outside the line. good one.