laughing outside
crying inside knowing me not, is telling me
fine, what is new is talking of
what is old
if hello makes sense, so good day make us tense;
hurt leads way to perfection while, fear give
us strength, what makes a man straight if
only he may break it
loser may fall, but the winner gets rich
nay the clock deny the minute neither close
the second, find a solution is pave the result
I am may not be the coin, yes am sure I am the
loser, the arm of the pendulum gets dirt
and the gear of the clock is ready to take its
course
we may have the same fate,
undoubtedly same in space and time but different
if direction, remember the end is still
to finish
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem