I stand there, confused as I am blind, I ask myself
What medecine shall heal my life?
For I am here rising against my death alone, as I die slowly.
I look around, seeking the word love, on this battlefield of life
I look, I find nothing, but hatred, scattered all over, like blood
Why? Why hate, when us are made of the same flesh, same bones, as we drink, eat and breath the same thing, we are bred
to unite, to hold our hands, with love, and clear of hate, why would we love not? ... I talk, talk and talk, as all ignore, I sit here alone, wondering for when shall this burden of hate end, waiting and seeking the moment to see us bound together, forever...
We all, have the same essence, as we cannot live without each person that lies in this planet, we all complete a puzzle, that leads to perfection... Sadly, the puzzle pieces, just seek out another puzzle, as they regret it when it's too late...
Why? ... Why... I don't care what happens to my life, all I want is to see us unite before I shall have my eternal sleep...
I shall be waiting that day, I stand here, waiting and waiting, to see us understand each''s feelings.
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Comments about this poem (My life by Ameed Taha )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
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(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
James Bayard Taylor
(11 January 1825 – 19 December 1878)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
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