IM squezzed into this empty box,
engulfed by some restless
thoughts, and reading a language
that only the bipoler peaple can
hear.
FIRST its white,
then its green,
then the apostles start to scream,
turn on the lights,
turn on the lights,
turn on the lights, and watch the
shadows slip away into night.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Oh so this is Bipolar people see when got in mind...I see it nice writing to tell us all for whom not know or understand it..But David, you are not alone, i met many people here have the same problem, what you need to do is love yourself and what happen to you just keep our day bright, you have your strength believe me :) .......Wish you have great day..keep writing this is how you can make your world more better and defined...Nice write it David..._Unwritten Soul