Sadness is always part of you, even when you are happy.
It is still there somewhere underneath waiting to be released.
The only thing age effects is the amount of sorrow, the amount of tomorrows.
Age is nothing if we realize we are still alive and breathing.
Precious are not the years wasted, but the ones yet to be spent. Glass half empty or full?
Go ahead take a drink.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem