Why is this so hard?
I used to write for hours,
About everything.
The love I felt,
The loves I’ve lost
Now writing is becoming harder,
My faith in love is dying.
I’m feeling fewer emotions,
And this isolation I thought would help,
Isn’t doing any justice.
I want to just give up.
I’ve stopped rhyming,
I’ve stopped loving
I’ve stopped caring.
I am so far away,
Yet stuck where I am.
The drinks are getting stronger,
The cigarettes are more potent.
Would a life in solitude,
Make me happy?
Would a life alone,
Make me wealthy?
I guess I’m just looking for an escape,
I’m trying to force an epiphany.
I don’t know why I have no self-motivation,
But I’m giving up, without even starting.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem