Strenuously attempting to fit in somewhere, but failing miserably with everything I do - except writing, because with writing I can be alone with myself, and therein, I fit perfectly.
So, taking all emotions, feelings, thoughts, I cram them down and cover them with tons of steel, leaving a tiny spigot to release them slowly into poems of literate sense.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem