My age keep praising
The daily blessing
The sun still rise
But I'm still wise
The thorns keep growing
Tornadoes blowing
The clouds still cry
My eyes stay dry
My peers passing
I'm proud of loosing
A wonderful prize
To my surprise
The earth still chasing
The life I'm saving
The crowds then fly
To see me die
And STOP!
Then I move to the grave.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem