I may hate you for a million reasons
But I still have to acknowledge you
For what you are
Be it a poet, an artist, a musician or a painter or whatever
It doesn’t matter that you hate me
It doesn’t matter that you don't acknowledge me
So what
If I rise above these frailties
Am I not the superior one
So remember
Pay credit where it is due
Because if you don’t
Somebody else will
And if credit is due to you
It will come
No matter what
Hasn’t history revealed this
Over and over again?
If this hadn’t been the case
Think of the monumental waste
Dedicated to my sister, Mrs Maxine Ray, who is based in London and from whom I have learnt a lot about maturity.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Sweet as...... siblings... wouldn't be without them! ! Maturity... well maybe some day! !