he comeback with his pack,
walk away with his pack.
it's full of pack
also my trust.
never know until now, it was another lies.
paper is the trust, but is the half.
cajole her not to verbose.
my heart is destitute,
my soul under finance pressure.
vacillated to not quit or quit.
the book is only dream,
the pencil is another weapon.
dream is about up to mountain cliff.
smoking release pressure,
drinking just another friend.
alcohol just even bitter than i am.
dreaming, when the time is up.
it end.
the angery one
yelling on the phone,
she forced me to talk.
his promised me another check,
but is was another lies.
phone,
shut,
close.
i wish i could look throught his eyes what is in his mind.
stab through his heart,
heat through with all my vessel blood.
love is just too little to talk about him,
empty and cold.
my heart is empty and flat like a piece of white paper.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem