we practice dying for years,
living lives in waiting,
clinging to cobwebbed memories.
reciting emotionless prayers,
with mechanical hearts,
making credit card investments
in the afterlife...
as if the door would close!
we would be angels,
never demons,
never aware of the storms.
laying our accomplishments
at the foot of eternity...
having forgotten to live!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
So true, another thing we always do is say, oh it will save till the next day, but one day it won't. A great poem.