My working life began digging for diamonds,
but I became ill and fell upon bad times.
Malaria took hold and almost killed me
before I found work down a deep coal mine.
I was working in three feet of water
when the tunnel's ceiling caved-in.
The rescue team dug us out five days later,
I was okay and glad to be living.
I then went to work in a Botswana gold mine,
but never got to see much gold.
Wealth never found its way into my pockets,
and life was leaving me disillusioned, and cold.
Until I met a beautiful woman named Laura,
who educated me in the ways of life.
She opened up my eyes and my horizons,
and eventually became my wife.
She discovered that I had a talent for creativity
that could be applied to contemporary art.
Laura managed to sell my paintings and sketches,
and to me this was a brand new start.
We began to earn and save money,
my pictures were selling far and wide.
However, working alone affected my mind
and from people I began to hide.
I became a recluse and unapproachable.
My temper and attitude got the better of me.
Laura said goodbye and walked out of my life,
leaving me to be an island in a people of sea.
Malaria stuck again but I survived it.
I searched for Laura for months, but in vain.
Inspiration also deserted me and so did the inclination.
Frustration left me with heartache and pain.
The money I once had quickly vanished,
all art work had disappeared too.
I found myself working in a field of potatoes,
wondering what else could I possibly do.
After work whilst living in the farmer's cold caravan
I began to write about my life so far.
Two years later no one was interested in reading or publishing it,
so I left it in the back of an old abandoned car.
I worked my passage across the sea to Canada
and laboured for a timber company.
One morning whilst washing in the river
a large nugget of gold attracted me.
I saw another and yet another,
and filled my pockets with the gold.
No one knows where I found the nuggets,
but I know just how to grow old.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Tex, such a brilliant well-penned poem...a perfect 10+++