In ten or twenty years from now, when my bones have turned to clay,
Will any here remember me, or what I had to say?
Will my words still echo in this room, will they bring a smile, a tear?
Or will they simply fade away, as though I were never here?
The times I've spent in this happy place, when things were going wrong
To share a drind with a dear old friend, or join them in a song.
And talk of art and poetry, and things that ease the mind.
And awaken to a brand new day, and leave the old behind.
This poem is very good. Flows nicely, with good rhyming. An interesting theme. Well done.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
With these great poems you will always be remembered. You'll be surprised how many people know your name. Keep writing.