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 |    A book to house all my Poetic Explorations |
| Lame I wish I were that poor little blind The worst scenarios - I wouldn't have to mind. The scene of poverty, the suffering of men Are too much of a load, too much of a burden. I wish to feel the beauty of our earth And live a life with content and mirth. I wish I were that poor deafmute I'd never have to deal with arguments and disputes. The ceaseless grievances and incessant cries I can no longer bear to hear their alibis and lies. Although the birds' songs won't reach my ear, At least I'd feel that somehow they care. I might be pathetic to the sight of many Lame and worthless to the sight of one - no, twenty! Their stares are as sharp as blades - stares of mockery As if I'm a criminal, a thief involved in a robbery. I care not to whoever deprives my right Despite of these, I still learn how to fight. |
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