Not one wants to play with the broken toy
For the broken toy provides little game
I learned of that when I was just a boy
And grew up with that thought just the same
The toy knows not it's own dishevelled state
Only the innate urge to be played
But the broken cogs seem to seal its fate
And the dreams of fun slowly seem to fade
I crave the company of those who yearn
The ones that find themselves in my mind
To know from me there are mountains to learn
And gems within me that many never find
If you look into the eyes of this once young boy
You will see I am much more than a broken toy
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem