On Hepatitis Day..approaching!
There he is, a very sick man.
Taut his face and a darkish tan.
Life for him, now a staple ban.
left not a friend nor a fan.
Wonder how others see him out.
Doubles he up in a coughing bout.
Think some, he's a filthy lout.
Punks skip by, give him a shout.
Cool and dig on the party scene.
Blonds and brunettes vied to lean.
Now he is ever hardly seen.
An no one else is either keen.
Seldom up an down the street.
Then, too often, he feels the heat.
Barely walks an drags his feet.
Eschewed even by a cop on beat.
Cringes he often clasps his hands.
Hair now thinned to wiry strands.
Stands he far at mounting stands.
Lonely soul from unknown lands.
Frail an done, lost and Gaunt.
Life's now just a slippery Slant.
No more welcome at his haunt.
He has no need and no want.
Life for him is a steady bad day.
Those he knew, turn, shy away.
Pitiable man that has no sway.
Caught up nature an yelled a stay!
Who'll pick up his dejected life?
Who's got the time for this rife?
A broken soul an body in strife.
Brooding days an toying a knife.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem