More of the same,
Is comforting to some.
Even though less of it is realized.
Memories of lives lived...
Have many wishing to revisit.
And each hour of today that passes...
Becomes a waste.
For those who accept and take,
A replacing of a happiness that can happen...
For an exchange of aches and heartbreaks.
Associated with age.
And what these moments passing lack.
As many now find themselves,
In times unattractive.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem