Long ago there was an older brother
to whom the younger brother did listen,
an uncle that could buy gifts
but life did take its wide turns
now slyly gossip and whispering is done at the church
with young children looking scared at me.
At a time I did love a girl
and she did love me back
but decades lie in between
with years of getting hurt.
At a time I was somewhat wealthy,
did laugh at life
and now a church does try to punish me
where years needlessly I am waiting to find a work
where people and a country does make my career undone,
where others do rob my cars one after the other
and no one can promise me the sun moon and stars,
where constantly I am told not to become bitter
and now I do write poems full of fables,
or fairy-princesses and knights,
others that do tell the sore truth
and unfortunately this poem is no fairy-tale.
© Gert Strydom
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem