Some pieces of hope are,
Waiting for the future.
The ocean of idea is overflowing,
The tide of this is growing.
The vibration of the heart,
In my mind, the favorite art,
Coming in me again and again,
I don't care if there are loss or pain,
May be there'd be many joys,
Or a game of two innocent toys.
Anan Singha
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/love-2865/
