heard every day I was called a mute
holding back, my awefull lack
and that night, you were steady to abandon
some of my skeletons fell out of the closets
well I explain it to you, it's hard to run when you feel dead inside
it's worse than I look, I can't even remember this day called 'yesterday'?
a year of terror, two thousand and nine. I swear my new resolutions...
I won't survive another 'this year'
so please don't put me through another 'this year'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem