Though I work
my body is still weak.
As is my mind
my soul
every aspect is weak
except my appetite.
I starve for more joy
for more.
I have an insatiable greed
There is no contentment.
I must learn.
Learn to not strive for more.
The squirrels strive for more.
And the worms strive for more.
And the maggots.
I am not a maggot.
I will not be a maggot.
Will you?
In the end, we are all weak.
Far weaker than we are strong.
(6/23/13)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem