Has the wing of my poetic life gone?
Do my words come crashing down?
In a sea of tranquility, I am drowing,
Is there a life vest around?
Seldom do I complain,
Even if I have a gripe.
Who the hell cares
About my troubles and tripe?
I have flown over both oceans,
And seen many foreign lands.
Remember the aftermath of war,
Took 30 years to forget it.