The Sweetness I Miss (Based On Madam Perdita Young's Poem Ailment) Poem by Akhtar Jawad

I was independent,
I could eat anything,
I could drink anything.
Now I am a slave of bitterness
of the growing age.
Nature!
What do you want to be done by me?
I have been always a mediocre,
as a cricketer,
as an accountant,
and,
as a poet.
How do you expect something outstanding by me?
Why do you bribe me
giving only six tablets of Canderel,
or two cups of tea a day.
I need sweetness of Ice Cream and Custard.
Life is the name of sweetness,
give back my life its lost sweetness
and,
take back the injections of insulin.
Be sweet to stripe in a starry night,
be sweet to smile like a moon,
be sweet to sing like pleasant winds,
be sweet to dance on the Milky Ways,
wet the dry colors of rainbows in my pen,
a lovely summer shower for the colors,
but before all that a few sweet dishes,
a poet is after all a human with instincts.
My sweet heart is still a lovely brush
I promise to paint sweetness of your artistic nudes.