All we are is our broken past
Threw everything we weren’t supposed to last
Our hearts like broken glass
Proof that our souls died very fast
Cold metal, our best friends
With these blades we will meet our ends
Self hate is the song we sing
The fallen angels take wing
Gash\scratch doesn’t matter
We are dead inside and shall be revived by the pain
We are the rebels of fate
The ones that everyone hate
So ripped off
So stepped on
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem