Written by: Willem Pietersen


To curse the day I was born,
Will portray my image as a coward.
To curse the night I was conceived be torn,
Will be like walking up a steep hill with high heels backward.

Little I know, so be it cool,
But my days are numbered.
Nobody embrace me for I am a fool.
Believing in fate or destiny but my life is conquered.

Days like this makes me wonder!
Wonder why God made to suffer.
My life is so wind-blown like powder,
Though we are born equal still we differ.

When the sun sets, wonder what tomorrow 
brings? Oh! Dear, what change does me good?
Ruff cuts and pieces put together but the road is so narrow,
My life deserves better than this bad mood.

For me to quit before being fired…
`Tis a solution to end sorrow of my shattered life-long days.
The burden I shoulder utters no bliss but being tired,
Do I deserve life prompted by agony in this hatred ways?

My spirit resembles the waters,
When I journey to the unknown.
Float in slopes doped to waterfalls,
My behind won’t be behind,
Cause the journey is eternal in the kingdom of the unknown.

						By Willem Pietersen