Jawaban:

Here's a revised version of the poem:

Timothy Winters, like a small bird,

Chained and shackled, his wings shattered,

Longed to fly but was held back by old Master's word.

His feet bled on an endless road,

He swam past the horizon's abode,

He ran faster than light's speed,

And at the finish line, he left his old cage behind, freed.

His eyes shone like the sun's bright ray,

A spark of hope that kept him going all day,

And finally, he reached a place of peace,

Where he learned of the Welfare State, life's lease.

Timothy Winters embarked on a new quest,

Dreaming of a loving home, a place to rest,

A cloud chamber as his peaceful retreat,

Where his weary soul could finally find its beat.

He wandered from orphanage to orphanage,

Like a stray cat searching for a place to belong,

Cried out, begged, and even howled like a dog,

But the four-leaf clover avoided him, like a never-ending song.

Reality knocked him down, mercilessly,

A wanderer lost, with no place to call home,

Timothy Winters slept on cold, hard ground,

With no one to hear his sorrowful scream, all alone.