the gospel truth:
just one life,
a brief temp,
not by choice.
the fortunate few
watch and choose
to drink and dance,
and to love and hate
the days and nights
pass before
the dawn of past
at least;
at times
take deep breathes
and often sigh!
the birth and death
are so similar
though varied much
in-between
another dawn,
another dusk
and yet another day
to seize or to surrender!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem