feeling withered out
these times far too long for me to go
yet the hands talk themselves
my eyes closed
and with only my hands speak for themselves
feeling sorry as i am with another
coughing from time to time
just wondering why did it have to be that day
my ribs hurting
almost making my heart feel something else
hot air coming out of this speaker
burning days burning throat
i wish to take that away
just why just why am I hurting
so tired so worn out
but take this little boy
out to a game
and bring out the spirit happy again
still nothing to write
nothing but just hurting
can't even feel my head
but only talking with someone else
this isn't me but someone else
someone else in my shoes
in my heart coughing these thoughts up
squeeze harshly through
as these notes dropp with ink blots
sleep on through
cuz these days goes snail slow
take a day off
take a heart
just hurting
but gotta get better...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem