What is a poem?
Is it a classic piece of literature,
Or a timeless piece of art?
Should we marvel in its reverence,
Or lurk beneath its dark.
I do not mean to posses.
I do not mean to obey.
Just grant me one last favour.
I will leave you to your ways.
I'm sorry for your hurt,
I'm sorry for mine too,
But there's so much I will take,
Before I break in two...
Beware of jelousy.
For it mocks the meat it feeds upon.
Oh to be that simple,
Would it not be too idealistic?
If we all could be but shakespeare,
Wouldn't life be grand,
Unfortunatley we're not.
Let us live by second hand.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem