This life was never chosen,
No questions asked when we came to be;
A brief journey for all men,
Who're playthings of fate and destiny.
When our consciousness ripens
The mind absorbs all it perceives.
The choices and decisions taken
Are fruits of what that mind believes.
Choose wisely then, live life well,
For the journey won't be very far.
There's an end which no one can tell,
We did not choose to be... but we are.
Cynthia Buhain-Baello~~~01.20.15
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem