Many are days weeks and years.
Now am too old for salty tears.
Sadness replaced the youthful dreams.
Lost time won the battle to me it seems.
The older I get the duller the edge.
Treading lightly on this geriatrics ledge.
Looking back I was a reckless rebel.
Tempting fate with my endless revel.
The price paid was too damn steep.
My reward is waking from my sleep.
To add another sandy grain to my pile.
And wait my certain demise after while.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem