The Anger of A Writer

But you think I am too scared to talk
Can I borrow your voice to speak my words?
And if you think that would not reach,
Can I borrow your legs to trek to Czech?

If that would be too painful
Can you give me wings to fly the sky?

But then you think I am too dull
Can I borrow your charm to toast the girls?

And if you think I am too weak
Can I borrow your strength to win the race?

And for those who think I am just hideous
Can I borrow your beauty just for a while?

Of course you think I am a coward
Have you a hammer? Show me the nail.

And if you think I cannot strike
Will you stand in for a guinea pig?

And now you say I am just poor
How much can you lend that I’ll live upon?

Can you borrow me some food,
Water,
Salt,
Rice?
Can you just borrow me your life, Fool?
Well, let all man be themselves!