The life we lived
And the lives we wanted
Are all but footprints
In the ever shifting sands
The lives we wanted
Are but mere fairytales
Woven from the threads
Of our wishful imaginations
While that self defining moment
Has long since passed
And whether by fate or coincidence
We have chosen the lesser
And like all lives
That came and are to come
Will be lived and forgotten
Like footprints in the sand
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Good imageries. Imagination has no footprints and no gravity.10.