Growing older, maturity has grown full circle,
now it's seen as an arc with a beginning and
end, life having been lived in the middle.
All of the hardships, tears and suffering seem
to completely outweigh any joy or happiness,
at least until you sit down here at the end.
Maybe the bad did far outweigh the good, but it
seems the good is more intense now and memories
are more pleasant.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Good is more Intense I like that! Kinda like the good is gooder?