Iam lying here in cold bed
and staring at the celling
where all is wasted blank
my life is just wethered
with flame of sorry
i dunno who to turn to
i have been struck into pain
and caught out in darkness
when time done and gone
i lying here
a windly storm
and hater block my happiness
i never done with success
iam thirst look the waterhold
cannot found no peace
iam lying with drunkness
i didnt think it true
there give a sadness
i tipped in the sign bittness
fit my case in art wink
and know my pain and sorry
i dunno if can ever sleep
stretch a dozen times
a night of creep to
my smooth stream wreatch
were bloodly murder talk to
my soul rest
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem