I long to be who I am made to be.
Successful? Married? Wealthy? Alone?
The possibilities run off the blank page -
The blank page that stares up at me.
The past is no more; the present is unchangeable.
The future is yet to come.
A mother, a wife, a business woman, a Christian.
One can only imagine.
The page is still staring -
The book is still unwritten.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very in depth, i really like this poem.