Don’t believe yourself, you poor dreamer boy,
Be always reluctant, of that fake inspiring joy,
It’s the flame of your sick hallucinating dream,
Or even the anger of your heavy life-style theme,
Don’t search for a heavenly sign in absolute vain,
It’s your poisoned blood, that intoxicated your brain,
Hurry to waste your life in that suffering and old pain,
A hopeful mercy from her is all what you might gain…
But don’t believe it; it might never happen again…
And if someday you’re given the chance to come clean,
Open your heart in front of her; show her all that’s in,
Don’t hesitate to skin off the membrane of your heart,
As in past you showed her your body’s every single part,
You were drowned in passion; you messed it from the start,
Now you had forgotten the score; lost that unwritten chart,
What have you got now; seems both of you had gone apart?
Are you satisfied?
Disqualified?
I bet you hardly can smile,
I doubt you can go a mile,
Want to stay here a while?
No, that’s not your style.
You will dream and dream,
But you’ll never find the youth stream,
You’ll shout; no one will hear your scream,
Oh poor lad; your life had been just a dream!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
thi tran likes this poem especially the ending..just a dream ^^