Wrong

Born fragile, no virtue no comeliness, never wanted
In my youth I receive strength yet darkness surrounds me
None to look upon and none to love; never loved
What's wrong with me? He asks

The waters upon him pours
His breath he cannot find
And his eyes blinded, never to cease its flow
His iniquity he knows not
His punishment so severe

poem by Nicholas Boateng
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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