We all have an ideal
Picture of how people should be,
But then we find the real
Person when we open our eyes to see.
We would like to be right
About 'THE ONE' we love,
That they be true and fair and bright.
But their stained clothes and wrinkled personalities remove
That dream-like figure atthe back of our eye.
Now with leisure and time's trial; we stay or say goodbye.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem