When I think
Of things I've done
Battles fought
Yet never won
Just a shell
Marking my time
A wasted life
Such a crime
Images come
Images go
Left so empty
Feel so low
So many things
I could have done
Seemed I was always
Just on the run
Old and broke
Alone in a chair
Beaten down
Devoid of tears
Added the days
To the tallied years
No laughter, no joy
Just nagging fears
Fears of dying
Hanging around
If only I could laugh
I'd be a happy clown
Happiness really matters to human, once they have lost it! sad..
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very heartfelt write, reflects what many people feel - hope your colleague comes through his sadness.