If every day was like a beach,
There would be no summer.
If every word was like a poem,
There would be no author.
If every minute was like a beat,
There would be no rhythm.
If every pencil made it's mark,
There would be no point.
If every story had a happy ending,
There would be no love.
(September 28,2008)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem