I walked away
On that very day,
Because you were busy finding faults in me.
You were spending the hour
And all of your power,
To find all the faults that you couldn't see.
Then came every minute
As if though you were sitting in senate,
To find my faults in any degree.
And then came every second
Unto me you continually did beaconed,
To find faults in me with a plea.
And while you were searching to find a fault
Not once did I asked you to halt,
As I was busy overlooking yours, with a glee.
Randy L. McClave
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem