Each day to experience the it of it.
Should be enough for anyone,
To find the time in wonderment.
Not spending it revisiting,
A past that has run out of gas.
To reminisce momentarily,
Is something most do but do not stay.
With a choosing to move on.
Unlike many with their druthers,
Who seem to wish...
Their days to come could be delayed.
Each day to experience is a blessing to get.
And a miracle to witness bestowed.
Yet some think this gift they are given,
Gives them reason to complain.
About a past they relive.
For them that remains the same.
To then be heard being upset.
If the it of it changes.
And they chose to stay unprepared for it.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem