As the knife cuts me deep
The blood begins to slowly seep
My pain it starts to go away
Just to return another day
My sadness stops for a little bit
In my bowels I feel a pit
The blood starts to rush and I begin to cry
Because I know that I will soon die
On that day I am buried
All was rushed and all was hurried
The sermon starts, the whole thing ends
And there’s a depressing aura among my friends
In the end I turned out dead
Just to end some petty dread
The tool I used was buried with me
And the pain is gone, I’m finally free
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem