He always took a risk saying just about anything to her,
The 'help' didn't help,
Didn't improve the quality of circumstances
Holding out on him,
Or giving him worse news, just another hostile story
No malice,
But his engine is tired anyway
Just place him on blocks,
For the sorrow to be admired by passersby,
They then can see what he meant with their own eyes
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem