You put a poet inside me,
But forgot my pen.
You equipped me with the eye of the tiger,
But there's no key to open my cage.
You filled me with fantasy,
But released me in a world without magic.
You created me with strength and muscles,
But buried me under the burden of continuous economic crises.
You gave me a brain,
But no manual on how to use it.
You gave me a heart,
But no money to buy love.
You gave me questions and doubts,
But now I ask for answers,
The postman returns my letters,
With the remark you no longer work there.
[Editor's Note: G.O.D. means Great Overall Director, the man who's responsible for a perfect world without problems, the man who tells all the Presidents and C.E.O.s what to do. Being a woman myself, I imagine this G.O.D. is male, as a woman would never allow our world to become the disaster it is.]
YOU ARE READING
Precious Poetry
PoetryFrom PROBLEM to POEM in 7 steps the Why, Where, When, What, Who, How & Wow of writing poetry Ai Ni and Ronaldo made this book to help poor people in Haiti, to build a school and teach them the art of a happy life. A warning upfront from the editor:...