Bits of me lie on to the floor
like so many pages torn from a book;
complete chapters have closed
to a life
that is all ahead of me now.
Each of those yesterdays
added light or shade or hue;
and in their own way
had something to do
with creating my world, my story.
One that's been both good and bad
at times joyful, other times sad;
but in all its living color and humanity
still my reason to hope when I pray,
there really IS a 'happy-ever-after' someday.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem