A pillow pushing hard against my face,
To soften my sinful cries.
To cover my pain and disgrace,
And hide away my lies.
Pushing so hard now,
That I can hardly breathe.
Suffocating ever so slowly,
Like every day I lead.
Becoming weak under the pressure,
Too tired to even strive.
So I try and become what I was,
And make my days a 'life'.
It seems hope is really bleak,
Because these walls are closing in.
I'm crumbling under the weight,
Of my every little sin.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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