Blank paper blinding me
Day in, day out
Ideas burst from my mind
Only to die, shriveling, in the light
I am Time's running joke
The girl who never has time for anything
Yet never gets anything done
Every night I hear the laughter
Death is on my heels now
Challenging me to accomplish
Something before I die
Can I handle the pressure?
Or will I become the split
Image of my mother,
Dying before I leave something
Behind to be remembered by?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem