Even they are coming down to bear
The only company I have left to share
I take no delight
in the colour of my plight
Even the corners are bare
And evidently aware
And thence am I drawn
Without liberty to yawn
Now I have cause to fear
that the lines will notice my tear
I will charge at them one more time
And attempt to make them round again
For I find comfort in a curve
Which I clearly deserve
They will then have to hide
While I determine the extent of my slide.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem