Human as I am
uniquely masked man
mine is filled with iniquities
a lover enthralled by beauties
no wanton dame ever flies.
I am quite vivacious
my fault is promiscuous
many times I stir
using sex as elixir
not minding at all
eventual death I fall.
Dead man walking
everyone is calling
friends are now all gone
i thought they would come
care that I most enjoy
is now acted as a ploy
even now that I truly try
no one hears my lonely cry
coming to the dead end
yet pains cannot emend.
Virus has conquered my body
in death I will become a nobody
rest in peace and cold underneath
unloved and burried with no wreath
soon I will be forgotten on this earth.
We poets are very lucky people. By our words we live, by our words we also survive. Warm regards, Sandra
Dear Marvin, all our bodies go back to earth, your poems remain for all to read, your thoughts they become our dreams.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
People being loved are never forgotten.They always have a special place in their hearts. A poem so deep and in anguish, somebody has to cry.Yup, i love this..