©️KARIM MAN DE POET
I sat under a tree, pen in hand,
Writing my will, my life’s demands.
I made a list of what I could have achieved,
But then I realized, my absence never grieved.
My silence never bothered them,
My tears never moved them.
This day reminds me of the bitter past,
Sad memories that long to fade fast.
I wrote to change others’ lives,
But they never cherished all my strives.
I can’t stop hating these days,
As the more I write, the more they move away.
I yearned to be by your side,
But you were nowhere to be found.
I write of my pain with my blood,
For self-love is the chapter I had wanted to write.
DE SENIOR CITIZYN