Our stories are our own to write
characters,
the good
and bad,
and happy
the lovers
the haters
all enter and leave or stay
but we are our stories the authors of our lives.
They success is measured by attainment an wealth....
hold on, are they?
what of care
and love
and bravery
and constancy
are these not more of us.
If the measure of a man is in his wealth
then I, in the world, am a failure but
it is we who write our stories,
we may be on the edge of history but
in the end what is a man or woman but what they leave behind
and sometimes that may only be love.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem