A Man Poem by Maxim Muyu

A man,
How can I be a man whilst my past sin's haunt me,
I never loved all that they loved,
For my conscience and your cup of water is a blessing and a mystery,
For all I thought of you was what you thought of me?
For I thought that this organ's and this function of my soul was for you,
What do you think of me and you?
My poems are not valuable if not for your timing,
This is what you made me right whilst the world people will never fake it,
It was not meant for them but for you as the living man,
For a man's wealth is in the living man's health the rest is all vanity and a lie,
Do you care for trust or monetary value?
For we can counterfeit it but love never neither trust and truth,
We lie to get the counterfeit and not the real world of slow motion,
We hurry whilst the world is slow in volition,
We hurry whilst we can never see the unseen,
We hurry whilst we ruin our melodrama,
We hurry whilst we fall, we die and soon we are forgotten,