My Taste Of Life - Poem by Albert Wong
I drink coffee seems it is my favorite wine,
How much I can enjoy until the end of my life?
How much I can keep for happiness as in my life?
When my life is going to be disappearing as a morning frost?
I am still worrying a thousand years’ later although,
There are a few grand children around me.
I could not see my grand children after a century,
But I worry about their fortune and children after my death.
Comments about My Taste Of Life by Albert Wong
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You