Through my family’s ridiculous behaviour
I have been robbed of a compass to evaluate
my own behaviour and the appropriateness of
anything I do and say, there has never been a day
when my behaviour was not open to censure, I can
never trust my own judgment and for all people I meet
I am inappropriate – death the only release I can think of...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem