Quietly and surreptitiously we wend our ways throughout life
and into the future where we can always find a way to fit
in with other people.
Tripping along, stepping, enjoying the way we are, never
allowing anything to mar our way, alone and in another realm,
far away from the existence of yesterday.
Looking back, interestingly seeing everything still the same
as it always was in every tender-hearted memory.
Tears forming, crowding in the corners of my eyes, waiting
to overflow from my heart and pour out into a myriad of
tissues as I wipe them gently away in a poem.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem