Tumescent feelings of happyness and joy, wandering into playful moods of childhood, tumbling and jumping onto playgrounds of adulthood.
Notwithstanding the brevity of it all, we conquer
fears and doubts as we grow into maturity and flounce
our knowledge onto back burners, awaiting times of
recognition.
Using our wisdom only when we feel like it, on some condition or another, one day in a hazy future.
Rising and falling with intuition and thoughts of memories, as little children remember their ambitions for short periods of time, adjusting themselves as they grow older, reaching for brass rings on reality's depraved battleground.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem