This time it’s too late
The permanent markings are taking shape
I know it in my soul; I know it’s too late
Keep writing those lost entries
And swallow those ungrateful pills.
They’ll brighten the color of your gold plated jewels
Discolored, pale; right on the edge
I’m here and I’m real
I live somewhere beneath this skin
I know you and you wouldn’t dare ask
Beggar of men and your magical beings
The unwanted force stings my head
I’m through being burdened
Intrude on him!
No room here, my shelves are full!
While you’re away not caring
You’re lying and dying; you claim to be Free
And I, just dying
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very powerful and intense. You have used words to make a very powerful statement thanks for sharing michael