Life is a maze
serpentine in shape
meandering from here to there
sometimes stopping on happy moments and at other times sad.
Each moment leaves behind memories
deeply entrenched in one's psyche.
These moments mould the personality
Sometimes warming the cockles of heart and at other times
Freezing from beneath.
Anyhow life is a gift and in spite of its meandering ways
It is pleasurable.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem