Even as a child 
my face was ?gloomy.? I found 
few reasons to smile, none to laugh: 
father gutting his great gifts 
for the cheers of clowns. 
For us. For money. My mother 
dazed by drugs. My brother 
charming, selfless. But also 
smirking, corrupt. All lying, 
and loving each other. Comedy? 
From the fool?s angle, the coward?s angle. Laughter 
means turning your back on suffering. 
And on the hard truth that tragedy 
writes the last act?always. I loved 
the sea because it said that. 
With infinite dignity and calm 
and terrible firmness. 

Knowing too well 
the struggle and sorrow of life I tried hard 
to believe, to help. In plays I wanted 
to bring our past alive?the brave dreams. 
But probing deep I saw cruelty, decay. 
In my last year I could only rage 
that our country too had cast away 
the best chance ever?like my father! 
For greed, blind greed, we grew deaf 
to the one question that matters, ?What 
does it profit a man if he gain the whole world but...? 
Damn! Damn our dumb callousness.