Done to do.
Everyday of life lived.
Presents a difference than others.
Gone.
To witness them move on.
Letting go of yesterdays.
Each coming with a dawn.
And leaving a sunset.
That with us did not stay.
At night we plan.
To anticipate and wish.
Done to expect,
What next to check off a list.
But seldom does that list of wishes,
Prioritizes something fresh.
Something new and different.
With it done to do next.
It's the old to redo.
In a repetitious comfort.
As if done to not accept,
A past does not last forever to relive.
Although each day many stay unconvinced.
That anything done to do,
With yesterday on their minds...
Attempted to pursue.
Has nothing to do with progress.
But more a comfort,
With what has gone and left.
Wished and wanted kept addressed.
To repeatedly keep them satisfied.
Done to do.
Without a future to envision.
Or accept each day,
To recognize a future being delayed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem