Long hours spent in planning;
Thinking of days to come...
Each day passes without telling me
The present gets lost
In the mysterious lanes of future
All my happy hours
Turn gloomy with the black shadow of foresight,
Time turns out of hand
Like sand...
My childhood went unplayed
My youth passed without sweet mistakes
Will my death take too long?
Will I have time?
Oh! ... why don't I have time?
A question unanswered for everyone... Loved this piece.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
great one..i really loved your poem! please read some of mine too though there are only two! ! !