My thoughts race
The sour truth I taste
I can't turn away
I can still see his face
He laughs in bad taste
He slashes my arm with his blade
So I grab it and take it away
I hold my arm in pain
My blood spills out of my arm and runs down to the floor while my tears race
He has that smirk on his torn face
I slap him and try to run away
But whith the pain in my arm I can only go a little ways
I can hear his thoughts in my brain
I hate this game
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem