Tell me something.
Where are we going?
This life.
What is it really?
Lies that entice,
A dream or reality?
I see myself,
Ten years from now.
Things can be different,
Or the same if I wished.
But do I really have,
Ten years to live?
Would I still tread
This place, the only place I know?
It’s a wonder,
A helpless predicament.
When do I go?
They say life is long.
Others say its short.
See,
I’m not going to measure,
Nor do I really want to find out.
I’ll live it as it comes.
And I’ll break down as it goes.
Life is fragile.
It truly is.
Enjoy it I must.
Yet preparedness I seek.
To pass into the unknown,
When life lifts itself,
Far away from me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem