Life is a bag of trail mix,
there's always something
you don't agree with.
Eating around the almonds
will leave you with a
bag full of concentrated
regret,
that sits in the back cupboard,
a rotting reminder
every time you go to get something
good,
it's unavoidable
Until you throw it out
and buy a new bag,
but you still get the almonds
don't you?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem