My life is falling off the walls
No Super Glue prevents their fall
My pictures setting below the horizon
Of my bed, the noise surprising;
And soon I’ill be as never was
I hate the drill bit’s whir and buzz
I refused to drill into the plaster
My life itself enough disaster;
Soon all the walls will be just hooks
A smudge of where the glue first took;
Soon the paint of scattered walls
Will bare the smudge: My rise and fall.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem