I used to like to go fishin' at 'the river of crazed insanes'...
I had my heart broken at 'the river of pain'.
I used to like to draw pictures of abstract art...
Now i've only drawn from a picture of a wholey broken heart.
I used to love to sing songs of love...
Now i only mask my feelings like a hand deeply hidden, inside a well worn glove.
I used to laugh instead of cry...
Now my only dream is to no longer live unloved,
My final dream in life is simple-My heart is broken-I wish to die, and
never of love's heartache to my ears, to never be spoken.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem