To whom Shall I complain?
About the agonies,
my entire being flooded by,
About the disappointments,
life has shocked me by,
About those I wished to stay,
But who eventually said Goodbye,
and turned out all to be only pssersby.
To whom shall I complain?
I've exposed my being to the rain
To wash away all the acheing thoughts,
which are crossing my brain,
To wash all worries in every vein.
To the moon,
To the stars,
To the sun,
I complained about all that pain.
To heavens,
To the whole universe,
I did complain
To rescue me,
To save me from the rage,
But every time,
It was in vain.
To whom shall I complain?
About the scars,
And the grazes
Of the abandonments,
About the wounds,
Scratches
Of life's mistreatments,
About all the torments.
To whom shall I complain?
About all the dreams,
which turned to be impossible,
Which turns all things to be horrible,
About all my wishes,
which became unreachable,
About all that is untameable.
To whom shall I complain?
About the loss of the smile,
which I strove to make mine,
But which left without worrying
Whether I would be fine,
Whether I'd be able to rise and shine.
To whom Shall I complain?
About the farness of luck,
About the need for all that I lack,
About the tortures that rack,
And that burden my back.
To whom Shall I complain?
About the talkativeness,
which inhabits my body,
About the exhaustiveness,
which rules my soul,
And which drives me so insane
That I behave like a fool,
Which paralysed me,
Blocked me,
Crashed me,
Then, to the ground,
It dropped me,
like a tool,
Motionless,
Powerless,
And worst of all,
Lifeless...
Rachid Oulamine