I found myself at animosity towards life during,
The ongoing operation called work.
But it somehow countered the spite
that I felt towards that great nothing,
That was there and will always be
During my off work hours.
That's work for me.
Now everyone I see
Want to be removed. But,
Before you are removed
From this world,
You will be cured.
That's for sure.
Maybe by disease of the body
Or by a remorse conversation
With the unknown
At death bed.
Before you are prepared to go to the
Unknown.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is truly quality poetry! Thanks for posting