To Die Thinking One's Work Is A Failure Poem by Adelina Amare

It is a great tragedy
When one leaves this world, thinking
One's work will never succeed;
One spends one's last days sinking.

To have finally finished,
Then to hear the public say:
'The work is not good enough, '
Then to die bearing that weight.

To later receive the praise
Deserved when the heart still beat.
Oh, such a great tragedy.
My aching soul weeps and weeps.

How is anyone to know
With absolute certainty
One hears the praise from above
And feels endless gaiety?

The soul may be in the dirt,
Trapped within the body still,
Never to know of the praise;
Never to feel that great thrill.

How tragic is the unknown.
Frustrating is it to see
The unknown cannot be known,
And it cannot ever be.