When a lie turns
Cold, black and colourless
It shakes you, brakes you
Takes, you to your sell.
Cutting you in shred
A lie is not a relief
A cover up to only you
The one who’s afraid and lost in their own imprisonment
Selfish, juvenile and unworthy of sympathy
Faking, and ill mannered
You’re redeemed
Priceless character.
Your fickle and you know it
So why don’t you just show it?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem