Treasure Island

Aldo Kraas

(July 15 1964 / Sao Paulo Brazil)

IF YOU WANT MY SYMPATHY FOR HIM


If you want my sympathy for him
You won’t get it from me
He made my life hell at work
Why should I give my sympathy or respect for him if he doesn’t have any?
I am afraid that you must be dreaming?
I don’t miss that place
Two years ago it was paradise
And I was proud of this place
Not today anymore
Today it is hell

Submitted: Monday, October 30, 2006
Edited: Saturday, October 30, 2010
Listen to this poem:

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (IF YOU WANT MY SYMPATHY FOR HIM by Aldo Kraas )

Enter the verification code :

  • Claudia Fitzgerald (2/21/2007 8:08:00 AM)

    a lot of hate and grievance is shown in this poem, sympathy is a funny concept but sometimes it is the first step to getting rid of the frustration- realising that someone else is human too. (Report) Reply

Read all 1 comments »

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  9. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. Food, Clothes And Drink, Edgar Albert Guest
  2. Let's Go, Edgar Albert Guest
  3. The Whiners, Edgar Albert Guest
  4. Down The Lanes Of August, Edgar Albert Guest
  5. Song Of The Many, Edgar Albert Guest
  6. The Jedge Of Bowie County, Edgar Albert Guest
  7. ‘Erbert's H'Opinion, Edgar Albert Guest
  8. Welcoming The New Year, Edgar Albert Guest
  9. My Proud Pa, Edgar Albert Guest
  10. Strange, Edgar Albert Guest

Poem of the Day

poet Henry Lawson


The old year went, and the new returned, in the withering weeks of drought,
The cheque was spent that the shearer earned,
and the sheds were all cut out;
...... Read complete »

   

Member Poem

[Hata Bildir]