Each Poem Has A Pain Of Its Own
EACH POEM HAS A PAIN OF ITS OWN
Each poem has a pain of its own
The failures of a lifetime cannot be forgiven in a minute
I wasted my inheritance on words
I am not a rock- solid being
In the hard- making of money
I gave myself to kindness and dreams
And they repaid me with poverty and loneliness.
I wish I had a way of saying the most beautiful words
In the most striking and elegant way
But what I have is my own small complaints and fears
And a lifetime of papers on which are piled my lost minutes.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Added by Poetry Lover
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