Your life is a dream, a miraculous scene
of Porsches and portable phones.
Your face is unblemished,
a lightly-tanned structure
of beautifully angular bones.
You're using your brain for material gain;
your charm and good looks serve you well.
But are your friends friends
or fair-weather friends?
And how could you possibly tell?
There by your side is your near-perfect bride
who laughs when your jokes are not funny.
I know she'd much rather
curl up beside me;
I suppose she's just after your money.
And thus, to the end, to myself I pretend
that I'd thoroughly hate to be you.
I'll drink till I'm blue,
and not do what you do,
but one day I'll know what I say is not true.
Your witty retorts cause me envious thoughts;
my envious thoughts turn to sorrow.
I hate you, I hate you,
I hate you and hope
that a bus runs you over tomorrow.
I like it. Keep on writing; it is very therapeutic and enlightens the soul. Isam Hussain
wonderful. I really appreciate this poem.I love part three.In our language we we have an expression(these friends you see, they are just mosquitos around the cookie) .this part really reflects thie expression. tnx cheers Nader
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A poem that may depict the inner thoughts of a large number of people in this world. Excellent write!