I am an injured lion,
Who can’t growl,
Who can’t live on his own,
A poor lion.
When I remember my old days,
I feel pain and regret.
I wish I had lived again these days,
To understand it’s value.
I am the king of the forrest,
But the fake one.
Everyone calls me like this,
Because they get used to,
Actually, I am more poor than them.
I hope my situation becomes well,
With somebody’s effort,
The only thing I need,
The rich man’s help to teach me to walk again.
Sami Morhayim
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