Plaster on the wall
There are times that I think I am nothing plaster on the wall, bright white and…
Neither can be used as chalk to write with nor as a board to be written on
In such times I hate me; that is all.
This is because I am a prism, a magnifier with focal points, a telescope; microspore
And in times all in one…I am laser…penetrate…cure the heart
For angiography, I am right material.
But no…I am plaster on the wall
Unable to change, grab a hand, walk
In such times I hate me; that is all.
I live in Toronto, multi-cultural
I have travelled a lot, multi-lingual
I have studied cultures, feel is all
But I am nothing but a wall
Useless to write with useless to be written on
In such times I hate me; that is all.
He
A graduate of Montreal
Wished to marry so went to Iran
He was not alone; problems plural
“No” was his reply.
Broken, he went to his field
Chemistry
“What is glass? ” he asked, tried to find out
“It will solve my problem, money is what they want.”
Made and used and now…
He is an addict thief
That is his final.
What can I do but…?
In such times I hate me; that is all.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I'm thinking 'thwarted', Nassy.
Hey Doug, It is good to be positive but...