Everyday I'm born
made good or bad
Every sleep the old me dies
Every wake a new me is born
A better version of me or the worst
My days gone rub on me reflections
Of whom I was
Offering the alter to bury the bad me
Or a plata to blossom the good me
Bloom or gloom,
Cheerful or scorn
I sleep and with
Them I wake
Except I change the destiny made by me
My life ticks away every seconds
Each bore me a new dreams
A new hope of better me
Before the last rebirth of me
From the nightmare of my days past
To the dreams of my days present
From the debris of my old days a refined me arise
My bad days trashed in old waste bin
While the relevance of me picked up to write my providence
A roll back of my days
Bad or good,
Put days of mine into the annals of history
Mere mortal me!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem