It always seems sad
when you have to move,
you feel always you are leaving
a little bit of yourself behind.
First there are the memories
and the good times you had,
then there are the little things
that you got so used to.
Now they are gone
as if they never existed.
It is only the memories
that will linger with us
wherever we will go to remind us
of the happy past times we had.
4 August 2009
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem