Abandoned by society I hold my cup in hand
reminiscing of the dreams I'd planned.
I lost my home, I lost my car,
my every possession, all that I owned.
Ill health kept me from work
as predators patiently sat on their perch
I defaulted
and scavengers swooped like vultures on corpses.
I have no fixed abode
no income to call my own.
How I used to whine
when I queued for hours, so little time,
but now I queue for bread and soup
all I have is time.
My life is on the line
I take comfort in my glass of wine.
Condemn me if you will
but I never asked to be ill.
Walk in my shoes for a while
you'll soon forget your senseless self-pride.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem