They have to go,
these emotions can not stay.
That's what everyone is telling me.
Telling me it is the right thing to do.
I'll pour this emotions into this poem.
I will drain myself of them.
Write until every last bit is gone.
I can do this again.
Pouring myself into my work.
Writing, writing, writing.
My hand cramps up
I look at my work and realize.
This isn't going to work,
not this time.
It's not the same as before.
I need to find a new way
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem