aug,11,2010
we feel alone,
when we don't reach out,
we feel angry,
when we regret a choice,
we feel happy,
when we reach a goal,
we feel hopeless,
when nothing goes our way,
we feel nervous,
when there is presure,
but we never feel perfect,
no matter how hard we try.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem