What was given to take and had,
Has depleted any leftovers saved.
And that craving to give has been diminished.
With a finishing that may be difficult to accept.
Since the giving of that which is genuine,
To be then taken for granted...
Can never be duplicated by substitutes.
Even though a doing of attempts made to re-create it,
May appease temporarily but doesn't quite please...
A known originality that seems endlessly produced,
To one day vanish with a wish to have it returned.
And...
Who has not lived with a wanting to revisit,
A yesterday one thought would always stay.
Only to awaken to find it has moved on.
Like a devoted love easily given.
To have one discover an appreciation to give...
In return is a lesson one learns.
And with that to reminisce to exist,
Much too often missed to forget as if to allow.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem