To halt our marriage you see as smart,
to put our lives on a merry-go-round
while I do need to be on solid ground,
to live for a time totally apart,
dedicated to God and painting-art,
not to hear my voice or of it a sound.
I know you are not the girl that I found
while you do not care as this breaks my heart.
I do not know from who or where you got
this soul-shattering demonic advice
where against our love and me you do sin
while to me you still do mean a great lot
and I thought that you were beyond nice:
with you I loose when I think that I win.
© Gert Strydom
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem