It came
It is
It could have been.
It should
It was
It laid there to the end.
A promise of an opportunity...
Wished,
To be revived.
In times recognized,
By those with opened eyes.
But too late...
To revise.
For those contemplating,
Its use to update...
The outdated façades,
Long cracked and too faded.
To renovate,
Recycled debates for changes needed...
By those who plead,
To keep disguised and efforts masked!
As tasks no one grasps...
Smothers under dust!
And blows away,
Cleared by tempered winds!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem