What Value Do We Put On a Life?
How is it that we can put possessions before life?
And live a life of strife.
Hypnotized drunk by the vine.
Without any sip of fermented wine,
We live in a cesspool with swine.
Struggling in a lifeless vine with no meaning for life!
Are we no better than the rich?
That stores their possessions for their private itch.
Always wanting more never satisfied with cravings like a wicked witch.
When are we going to step up say, that there's more to this life?
My success in life isn't about who has the most.
It isn't about being on a list of the favorite poets post.
My life is about saving the lost.
No matter what the cost.
What value do we put on a life?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem