-by Elaine Liew 21st April 1998

You are the lover of life,
I hide and fear for dear life,
You cherish every day,
hour, minute and second.

I long for so much,
I wish every night.
I hope for a dream.
I want assurance.

You are content as a bee,
Never wandering "what’s more"?
Never fussing or cussing.
Always reading and willing.

Never thinking "what if?"
Always wondering?- No!
Never faltering.
Always there smiling
.

Full of vigor, full of might;
Happy playing a lively act.
Always messing; good enough.
Never serious in a fight.

Open arms keep greeting;
Every such meeting
sends me off fleeting.
I hate what I’m missing.

Dark, vile, sour; I must be,
to hate so much that is me
and envy all that I am not,
don’t deserve more than I got.

Wish I could scream and shout
tell the world what it’s about!
Solitude; consuming,
desolate in all it’s taking.

What’s the secret to living?
Could it be not wishing?
I must be the lowest,
foulest of all breathing.

Hear me, dear, clean fresh page,
hear my pathetic complaints
written in ill whining,
would make you burst out laughing.

***

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Copyright Elaine Liew, 1998