A humble thought.
A pleasant calmness.
Then snap it's gone.
Like it was never their.
Preparation a waste.
Such a sour taste.
To know who those are that do not care.
I shall not have pity or anger towards the indifferent.
For it would do nothing to change it.
It's a matter of fact,
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem