Its strange
how things change
We are here today, tomorrow is another page.
Is it change
That makes us change?
What we wear
who we used to see,
What we were
Who we used to be?
Its strange
how things change,
There is brightness now somehow darkness emerge
Is it rage
that makes us change
Our feeling upon things,
And how we view the world and its beings?
Its strange
how things change
We were free then, today dying in a cage,
Is It sage
That makes us Change.
Our ways,
and how we judge?
Some days
not to hold the grudge?
Its Strange
How things change,
Now we are here tomorrow the next stage
Is it age
That makes us change,
Our perception of what's important in life,
And what we do?
Our definition of bad and right
And what we choose to be true?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem