Boys Game Poem by Phillip Dix
Boys Game
Tear my heart out,
I'm dead anyway.
No room in the social lounge again,
on the dark and cold streets,
is where you live,
and die.
Oh my friend,
if I still have one,
you as me, we are alone.
This world forgot about us,
quite long.
How can I survive?
Too much hate surrounds me,
sadness too,
but love,
love does not.
Flip the coin,
who goes first,
five chances
squeez that trigger.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/7/2024 4:04:08 AM # 1.0.0.1119
This is a game that boys play constantly, whether they know it or not. The chances they take speak of worthless lives as they view them. All attributed to limited vision. A great piece of writing reveals it. Worth reading. GW62