Why must I be stuck with the very thing that has imprisoned me. My mind is my hell and my heart the bars of the cage that are now unbreakable. I know not what to do, all I know is that I shall sit and rot in this cell until someone or something rescues me. Somedays I may get a glimpse of light but this darkness may be as dark as dark could be. Most of my days are cold, but I have become accustomed to the pain that the cold brings, I have learned to become numb and not to feel or think.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wonderfully inked poem on sadness, the beauty of depression......