impersonal celebrate not
past sorrows joys...
life for most is a collection
of small lives...
small days each day lived
singularly one at a time
diminishing clicking
over to expire...
so spend days with paintbrush strokes
paintbrushes poetry or flowers
with dreams sunrises sunsets
refreshing breezes
never stopped for never
will life now over...
Copyright © Terence George Craddock
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem