I do not want to be remembered when I am gone.
If when I needed love and empathy,
I found hatred and hostility,
When I gave everything to make others happy,
I received false love in return.
Doors were shut on me,
Treated as stranger,
Left to find my own survival kit;
What then would I do with love or a statue
When I am not here to enjoy them?
Those I have fed with the sweat of my labour,
Who having gone up the ladder of achievement,
Look down, unconcerned, leaving me hungry,
Victim to scurrilous lies and gossips.
On these foundations of pain and tears
Have I at last built my castle of peace.
Those who know me as the person I am,
Will shed some tears, and they are few.
They will remember me whether I leave a poem or a book.
Those I have fed with the sweat of my labour, Who having gone up the ladder of achievement, Look down, unconcerned, leaving me hungry, Beautifully expressed thought.Can feel the pain for my The ladder, too expresses the same.Please do read it sir. A ladder though forgotten and ignored is always required when those who used it to climb, need to come down too.Thanks for the beautiful thought sir.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Yes! Doors were shut on me. Thanks for sharing this poem with us.