In the end
its just the
handful of sand
that little space
where you'll
put me down
my dear friend
Or its just
a palm full of ash
proof of my identity
nothing left of my stash
The stash of my memories
Much happiness some miseries
the past that did not last
but this present and the future
gradually unfurls
its plot full of mystery
so much drama
so many plans
its all futile
as I take a glance
but still I will
plan my day
its an old habit
will not leave me anyway
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Your use of rhythm here is wonderful. Very vivid and deep poem