Nothing more than a simple score
Nothing more than a lost w@$^e
Not good enough for her
Not good enough for him
The happiness is gone faster than before
A perfect lay
Am I good for nothing more
On a perfect day silent tears strike the sidewalk
Nothing more than backtalk
Meloncholy quotes save poets
But I am no poet
Lies and fake smiles protect me
Once pushed over the edge where do we go
Doomed to a destiny so unfamiliar
The taste so faint
The smell lingering barely alive
The sounds whisper in my ears hardly audible
Am I sick in the head
In my own world of thoughts and questions
I ask
What is wrong with me
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem