Sometimes I look at the things I have done,
And I think life is a competition I have not won,
I have not been so very many places,
I hold close only a few, very dear faces,
I struggle with every step I take,
I contemplate over every choice I make,
And then, oh so gently, I can breathe,
And feel the sweet waves of relief,
For each path we walk forks in a different direction,
Making it nearly impossible to measure with discretion,
I love those that have stayed close to my heart,
And I pray to those above that we may never part,
And though life is not always a simple thing,
I look at my children and know the rewards strife can bring.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem