Could-of chasers downed with pints of bitter
In a toast to hope undone
Failures mementos litter
Missing the medals never won
Everyone’s getting older
Time is passing by
While desires flames still smoulder
It’s never too late to try
What if only
Fortune never met
Hindsight is sad and lonely
Blurred by life’s regret
Fun is mine to find
There’s I wonder in all I see
Age is but a state of mind
I’m growing old disgracefully
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem