My
childhood passed asking for the moon
youth made exit trying to enslave it soon
middle age slipped in expectations
to atone misdeeds, old age made preparations.
Old age made the TIME also to tremble
donated itself to enable
me
to come out of shamble
but by then
excitement was lost
enthusiasm was gone
courage could not defrost
to grab the lost opportunities even at a cost.
Helpless
beaten by the time
waiting for the eventual destiny
embraced death ultimately
laughed The TIME
watching me
in eternal sleep
(a body of lost opportunities)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Time, where does it go. So quickly and tomorrow is here. This offers a great definiation of our time on earth.