on the premise that meaning
lurks somewhere always waiting
to be found upon an exhausting
justification we begin the search
as though everyday is Easter
now grown up we never like
colored eggs designed
to please our eyes
we are into something
more important something
so vital so we can move on
with our lives: we never thought
we shall choose another path
to each his own
like a junction of two separate ways.
good luck, find your true self.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem