We swing the pendulum of life in tune with our wishes
Nurtured and cultured to suit the future
We desire to fire up in dishes
That we feel deals fairly with our culture
Grown, known and torn sometimes
By contractions and infractions
We impose to respose trust
In urns that burn to initiate actions
That determine how the way ahead
Pans out to move our lives to a higher level
If our strategy doesn't lie on a bed
Where lies in wait a devil
Who smiles for miles
Upon analyzing traps and maps we draw
To block piles of files
Where the key to a successful future can't grow.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem