I see joy, and tears, and people’s elation,
but feel inside, just desperation.
I feel cheated, and robbed, and treated unfairly,
and the days when I don’t, come very rarely.
I’m at the bottom, they’re at the top,
never even likely to make that drop.
I’m pleased for them, yet hate them, all at a time,
Yet in reality, they’ve committed no crime.
I’m just bitter that I lost all this,
it epitomizes all that I sorely miss.
Now, though, thankfully, my heart’s on the mend.
And if it is, so be it, I’ll start at the end.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem