Do you read my inbox?
Can you feel my rage?
Do you take a gasp
As you read my page?
This verbal tiff
Is far adrift
Alone on the swelling tides
Hoping that one day
T'will be heard
Way above the smattering
Of birds
For with all the chatter
Real lives are what should matter
But so many do not care
As people pine away painfully
While others plan carefully
Waiting to sing cheerfully
While hurt continues desperately
And every year
It picks up steam
As another passenger
Joins the throng
Of teacher's hurt
And in pain
Yet doing nothing wrong
Who, according to some oddball view
Must lie and wait
As they set their bait
To belittle them
Again and again
Treating them as second rate
Well, I have got a point of view
That must be given some thought
So while you sit and plan
So will I plan and sit
On how to emerge from
This seemingly dark pit
That you have dug
As you try to pull my feet
From under the rug
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem