Please, would you proofread my poem.

[Bassim]

A WISH

I wish I could pass away slowly,
life trickling out of me drop by drop,
with the smile on my face in defiance;
a long awaited satisfaction.

And then the pain raging in its impotence
its knives now broken and blunt.
It makes a miserable figure in its jealousy,
watching Death and me kissing passionately,
waiting for the train which seems never to come.

 

[Bassim]

Dear Gil,

Thank you so much for proofreading my poem.