Out of a shadow of happiness,
I am suddenly sad,
For all the things I've never done,
And all the time I've had.
Out of a world of smiles,
I am suddenly in tears,
For moments come and moments wasted,
Throughout the many years.
Out of a life of pleasure,
I recall only the pain,
Of dreams lost or forgotten,
Along life's endless lane.
Out of a time of plenty,
I remember the endless want,
The 'might-of-beens' that can never be,
In teardrops that shall haunt.
Out of a memory of love,
I feel only hate,
For the tears and fears of many years,
And now it's just too late.
And through a broken mirror,
I face things as they are;
Although I can't change what I've done,
I can try to heal the scar.
(1987? ? ?)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem