When you hear of my disablement
Let your minds have amnesia over it
Dotage would be too intense,
But in all don't cry for me.
My eyes squint in the sun
Eyeing nowhere but a dot of the cloud
Over the distant horizon.
My hands holding tightly a wheel chair
Going nowhere, but to a garden stool
Set on the back of the cottage
Where bougainvilleas are climbers
Of jacaranda trees.
I see life in you,
And there is life in me
As when ants crawl onto my feet
Their feel rise to my spine
Their biting a terrible taste
Slowly I let my hand droop
Scratching those ants from mine skin
So in all, am I not able-?
After all don't cry for me.
My mind weak, my personality a weakling
My resolutions archaic, my reasoning stupendous
My plans short sighted.
They can steal from me, they can con me
They can shout at me,
Or laugh at:
But in all don't cry for me.
