Dad...
Being with you is like being in hell
You strip me of my mind
Of my own dignity.
When I look at you, you’re always well,
Living your life
Living off my misery.
I wonder what I did to deserve you.
I look at you, my expression bleak.
I look at you, I don’t have to speak.
Being with you is a curse.
Whatever I say couldn’t make things less worse
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem