Some people have fruitful careers
And toil with sweat and blood.
Mine ended quick, I had no choice
For my body is a dud.
I sit in bed for days on end
Sleeping only an hour or two,
Then wake up rhyming words nonstop
It's all I'm able to do.
Each minute I suffer racked with pain
Just brings a minute more.
And so I keep on writing
Instead of crying inside these doors.
But then I send these writes along
To my family and my friends.
I wish the rhymes were once a week
But the words don't want to end.
So please forgive my frequent mail
If you'd rather I would stop.
Just send a note voicing this to me
For it sure would help a lot.
No hard feelings are left in me
If I bother you with this prose.
Rather than keep harassing you
I would really much rather know.
I will send this out to everyone,
And I hope to hear back soon.
Then I can take you off the list
But I'll still be friends with you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Don't unfriend me because this poem is a great piece and I like it. My poems are posted in facebook where one has the freedom to promote his/her poetry. Do it on your page - because you deserve exposure!