Maybe I’d rather be a saint
Detached and unfeeling
Full of potential goodness
Who loves to be tormented
Rather than be flesh and blood
I won’t know shame and hurt
My wounds will be of other nature
Saints are worse than humans really
They don’t question things
They are full of arrogance
They despise weakness always
They live behind a wall of indifference
They see no fires of Hell
Nor bliss of Heaven
And I want to be one of them
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
WHY? ... You have the Gift... Colin J...