A poem about people and things.
|[Sorry for mistakes if there are any. Also, I'm very curious about native speakers' view on poetry, because, as I've noticed, rhymed poems are not that popular in English (while in my language they are pretty much the main poetic tool). So I would be really grateful if you gave me your opinion on the matter and on my poem - how do you see it, how do you see the rhyme and rhythm. Thank you!]
Look, this is Adam, not sure if you have met.
Adam is happy. Is he? He seems to be.
Smiling. The smile is bitter, but just a tad,
He's got no time to sulk - he's a busy bee.
Sleeping for hours, working for hours more,
Adam is living, or trying to think he is.
But in his heart, to the bottom and to the core,
Adam is sure there must be much more than this.
Adam liked skiing, playing the clarinet,
Back in the good old days when he was a kid.
Now he never has enough time for that,
Which makes him sad, but a bit, just a tiny bit.
He wants to learn Korean and play baseball,
Visit Peru, write a book, get a guinea pig.
It would take quite a lot to achieve it all,
Maybe those tiny wishes are just too big.
Adam will do it later, someday, of course,
He'll solve the Rubik's cube, go to Disneyland,
Learn how to do a painting and ride a horse,
Just not today, maybe Monday or next weekend.
Also this girl next door, it may sound weird,
But they will hit it off, Adam has no doubt,
When he gets richer, slimmer and grows a beard,
Adam will finally dare to ask her out.
All in good time, his mother once used to say,
Dreams have to wait, you do what you have to do,
World is not going anywhere anyway,
Now it's work, TV and a beer or two.
Adam is hopeful, even when life gets tough,
Telling himself that it's all gonna be okay,
Glass is half-full, you know all that kind of stuff,
He'll drink it later, though, on a rainy day.
Adam is walking down the busy street,
Wishing to change the game and not knowing how,
Something will happen soon, you just wait for it,
Moment is coming, Adam, your time is now.
Suddenly all his body feels strangely numb,
Screeching of tires, screaming, a loud thump,
Adam was waiting for better days to come,
Waiting is over, Adam, your time is up.
Monday has passed, a weekend, a month, a year,
Adam was not quite wrong about certain things:
Fortunately, for now the world's still here,
Sadly, however, Adam no longer is.