And she says again
Fool, my fool
What are you waiting for?
And I being me
Say nothing as per
Wanting her for sure
Being overly careful
That is my limping crutch
My wanton fear of losing her
But she won't come down
A peg or notch
For a fool like me
And I have no answer
And I have no cure
My disease being terminal
She is my doctor
And she is my nurse
My undertaker, my hearse
She knows me
Better than myself
She is my curse
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
good........and terse