A poem this,
A poem that,
So many things,
That don't come back,
All effort gone,
In Life itself,
As Time slides off,
A hidden shelf,
And all's not well,
In Fairyland,
For those who,
In a poem dwell,
Thinking that time,
Can be pulled back,
And will some how,
Forget to act.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Most people don't live in the moment. It's always, Tomorrow this or yesterday that. Now is all we have and it should be acted in. Thanks for another good one.