Okay...
I will admit it.
I have been using you.
You have been my therapist.
Here I sit,
Getting things off my chest.
And silence you give me.
As if you want to hear the rest.
And a going on of spilling of my guts I do.
And when I am through,
Not a sound from you comes.
As if you approve.
You have been my therapist.
And I have been your...
Sleep agent.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem