Life is a race and every day is a lap,
A days sprint, but unable to fill that gap.
In need of a break, in need of a nap,
But no answers to be found in books or map.
You start it, when you’re born,
And it ends when you are gone.
For some, a little sprint and they are done,
Some are able to run a marathon.
The race is cruel and certainly not fun,
Life wouldn’t tell what is to come.
Race is full of hurdles and many jumps,
You cross a pit and into hurdle you bump.
Healthy, wealthy, miser and wise,
Everybody of every shape and size.
Will have to do it, we have no choice,
All will run the race of life.
.Fahim...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Fantastic. What else can I say? At this age you have captured the essence of life, while many at old age still grappling to visualize life. God Bless. Love.