What happens when the pain doesn’t go away?
How do you cope with the growing vine,
Inside you mind,
Which insists on gnawing on the hope still left?
What call do I have to complain,
About something so trivial that borders on mundane,
Why the meaning is gone from the whole reflection?
And yet,
How do I go on,
Cope as a useless pawn,
With the fear that the pain doth make?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem