I sometimes fantasize,
ending my life of pain and lies,
i look down only to realize,
my gun is out of bullets,
i feel tears gather in my eyes when i realize,
nothing will happen when i pull it.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Its good to artisticly verbalize this rather then act upon it. Channeling the despair through a writen for liberates the rage and explores deapths we cant always articulate to our friends. Good work