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My me, a poem by Jean de dieu Nikiema, West Africa
Sad, Grief, Sympathy, Broken Heart Poems & Not Categorized Poetry
Jean de dieu Nikiema, West Africa
My me
I always dreamed to do somethingEven if compared with few others’ it’s a grainIf ever some day this fight I had to gainIt’ll surely put an end to my chagrinAbout my verses, ”they’re good” all my friends say I often think so and for this truth I prayBut I ignore if either all they say or what I think is trueThat’s the reason why I don’t dare do what I just can doAnd I wonder then whether in my life I could really get throughMoreover when I see passing by my side the winning, bold crew When in the street, I stop to write on a sheet of paperI fear to be labelled mad, but who really does care ?I did always wish to accomplish somethingThough compared to few others’thing it is nothingBut pronto I got to set myself free If somebody great I really want to be Alas! The cold caused in me by my fearIs more than can support the polar bearWhat I every day suffer Is more than any mind can endureA load no back can agree to bearAnd that tear on my cheek is the extension of my painThe incredible unrest of my tormented brain
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