Sitting at my desk, a hand-rolled cigar,
In my grip, the smoke slowly rises, fading away,
The clock on the wall, ticking away my life,
One second at a time, a peaceful moment,
All alone, no one else is here.
The brass table lamp, lighting each thought,
As the graphite in the pencil, print them,
With the movement of my hand.
We each only have, so many swings of the pendulum,
In this life, positive energy keeps the clock ticking,
Always have positive thoughts and attitude,
To accomplish, all of your plans.
The Original: Tom Maxwell © 9/7/22 AD
2: 00 am
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem