Does change of weather
Assimilate with change of fate?
Will someone else or something
Happen or will come on
This onset of winter?
I know that the answer is no.
But then that is not the question.
The question is how many winters
Like this can I survive.
Winter is for the rich.
And not for the working class.
The blue collar jobs
Looks a shade more bluer
On the onset of Winter.
With all its empty promises.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem