Our life is but an arrow
with a target set for death.
Our body, just a casing
to sustain our every breath.
Our feet are transportation
through the space mid you and me.
Our eyes are glinting portals
bearing souls for some to see.
Our feelings but fragile infants,
to be sheltered from the cold.
Our hearts, just gentle creatures,
to have, to love, to hold.
Our minds are all blank canvas,
painted on by what we see.
Friendships, precious gemstones
cherished eternally.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem