Loving in the silence of anger, penetrating its harsh and
intense fits from another, looking into the twilight of
life.
Being reminded of the failures of humanity and the negativ-
ity of some people no matter how good their lives really
are.
Wondering all the time how anyone can be so negative while
holding everything good in their hands, family, friends,
maybe even wealth, how could there be anything wrong in that?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
There is often nothing 'wrong' with present, personal impressions. Anything that detracts from your present needs consideration. Peace, Roseann