The seesaw can swing up or down
we are hinged to life and death
like love and hate
good and bad whatever.
In the middle we have a choice
to swing either way. Stay up?
For how long. You must come down.
Live forever? You cant
Try as you might.
Love forever-possible
but hate follows close behind.
When God made man he was surely
seated on a seesaw!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem