As night time falls, Sleep closes our eyes,
And the day comes around before we realize
The hours have gone and our life's getting shorter,
Getting older and weaker, we try to live longer.
Men are destined for this, none of us special
We are all made of matter and matter is mortal.
So we make do with deeds, plans, and our given time
We may meet our end while writing some rhyme.
I know an old man with a flashy new car
I told him 'you won't need it when you ride a star'
I smile thinking some still run after money,
With aching knees and arthritis, they can't seem to see
All wealth's left behind us with a tinge of regret
That we can't take them at all when we meet Death.
Cynthia Buhain-Baello~~~4.18.16
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wonderfully profound poem, very well written and articulated! We definitely cannot take anything with us when dying, just like when we were born, naked bringing nothing from heaven to earth with us. Love your style, expression and rhythm in this poem.10+++++++++++++++++++ Thank you for sharing. RoseAnn