Can't even count to ten
I reach seven then start again
Which came first, the egg or the hen
I've reached seven, now Ill start again
Can't even complain
this state of mind I can't explain
No thoughts to think
No blue Nor pink
Cant even control this pen
The end of the line, the start again
Which came first the sight or the sound
Which moved first the thought or the pen
Can't even walk straight
This passive fury, this silent hate
This hardened mind, I appreciate
This passive fury, this silent hate
A total submission to fate
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I really like this. So creative.