Still...I sit frozen my temperature rise.
I feel thick in my skin, my thoughts I despise.
Because they are so far from what is the norm
that people should feel... not sad like me...forlorn.
I've nothing to fear and have plenty to say
so why then am I frozen shaking this way?
My water boils over my head filled with steam,
yet my cup is plentiful....living my dream.
And here I go strangely into this vast world
of my unintentional void...my life whirled
copyright 12-21-2008 ©® Sarah Sisson
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem