Thoughts are like the sand-
Countless in number:
Those that we forget
And those we remember.
But most leave
With the tides of life.
Some in poverty
And others in rife.
If we could count our thoughts,
it would take night and day.
And so - little wonder
That most are washed away.
©
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Except in the case of a photographic memory which is a blessing and a curse in disguise. Remembering all the good and bad in life, the only way to deal with all the memories is to put them in a poem and send them out into the universe. Thank you for sharing. RoseAnn