The odd thing
About life
We sit
In silence
And view
Our pieces
Of belongings
These objects
Hold memories now over
Life held
Treasured
As time
Passes on
No one
Will ever
Share these memories
Quite the way
You do
There is now
Only so much
Time left
It cannot be wasted
Value every minute
Let the joy of these pieces
Fill your soul
With Gold
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem