A great many people each year,
become fugitives of life.
It becomes too much for them,
and they run to death in despair.
They fail to recognise,
the precious fragile gift,
all of us have been given.
The gift of life.
They see no hope of a future,
just nothing there.
Instead of turning for help,
they resort to death as an answer.
Had they reached out,
someone would have been there,
to guide them to a new tomorrow somewhere.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
How true David, some take drugs or drink to run away from life, they miss the point how beautiful is this gift of life...10