I was on experimental prescriptions for all,
My years in school, average grades,
I never learned or obeyed all the rules.
Should I be alive, the drug cocktail they,
Gave me for thirteen years, they will not,
Mix it today, or cut someone off cold turkey,
As they did me on my eighteenth birthday.
I was never interested in writing or reading,
Books, hands on learning, and labor, I created,
My path and future to survive till today.
At age forty five, a drinking/ partying buddy,
Randy called me upset, I knew he had tears,
In his eyes, he had watched, a friend of his,
Jamie, Fall off a cliff, at Garden of the God's,
And die. At that moment a voice was in my head,
Telling me to write a poem or song, to help comfort,
Him and his emotions, his friend was dead.
I will always remember, my mind saying, I never,
Write, the voice kept saying yes you can, within a couple hours,
I wrote Jamie's song, to help relax Randy's mind, slow,
The confusion in his head. Today twenty years nine months,
Later, I love writing, and the words I write, help many,
As they journey on their path in this life ahead.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem