I'm angry as—I guess—a wasted chance,
I'm angry 'cause—perhaps—I can't regret,
I'm angry—surely—for a failed romance,
I'm angry for I can't—and won't—forget!
I'm angry as—indeed—I can't accept:
My bloody place amidst the common man;
And when I have—how hard—yet higher stepped:
Those spiteful hands have helped my sins to scan!
I'm angry as I have a thousand plan:
Which means I can't hold anyone but dear!
I'm angry since in one whole damn life span:
I won't yet have a definition clear!
I'm angry when—or not—I'm on the shelf,
I think I'm only angry at myself!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem