Maybe because I can touch you
Through the bars that lock me away,
Just to remind me every day
That you are so far away.
It’s you who does it,
It hurts me to see
When your touching hands,
When you’re so happy.
As I sit I twist the knife,
I think what I shouldn’t,
It eats me.
Build on self destruction,
Amplify the blow,
Revel in toxicity,
Squeeze and stop the flow.
I’m living with insanity,
Take it off I pray,
Feelings that have mined too deep,
End it, die today.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A very stygian poem man. I like it Stuart.