The Existence Of Love

I knew that time is money,

but never that silence is a crime—

until I met you.

I wonder if it is worth being a man on this Earth

when there is no love.

And I manage, I pull out all my weeds,

seeking the path of truth and reason—

but it is a long road to the truth.

I certainly do not consider myself special,

for I am an ordinary man who dreams dreams

that always become just empty dreams,

without the growth of emotion or presence.

It is a short journey without what you love,

but one day everything will be yesterday,

and I will dream some sweet dreams

until I wake from them.

And if I wake from a sleepy dream,

tell me—was the one I loved the right

woman who would respect my time,

my emotions, my everything?

Everything Will Be Ok

And when they say it’s very bad that I’m lonely,

I say—everything has its reason.

People have grown so sick today;

minds are tangled with new lies.

What else is left in me, but to tell myself

that it will get better one day—but it won’t,

so long as I continue to think poorly of myself—

so it will be for me.

Everything will be okay, I tell myself,

though I lie if I dream of my own well-being;

for in every charity I lose my mind,

simply because I give myself too easily to others.

And it’s not wrong that I’m different from most—

it’s just the way I work that’s flawed:

I trust everyone blindly, while others break me,

and I never reveal the state of my mind.

But one day, when everything turns around,

people will see how wrong these times are.

There’s still a little reason left in the bosom of my soul;

I still hope for change—but it isn’t working!