I am a poor man

I am a poor man
I wonder “who is my lover?”
I hear your trumpet
I see a false gentleman
I want to turn my life over
I am a poor man

I pretend to know “where is my wife?”
I feel unsatisfied
I touch my desperation
I worry about my life
I cry because she died
I am a poor man

I understand you problem now
I say your name
I dream with you all nights
I try to know
I hope not to be to blame
I am a poor man

Esta poesía la escribí cuando me leí "Trumpet Voluntary" de Jeremy Harmer.